


The Next Generation of Souls

by Xenoprime1337



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Action, Adult Themes, Adventure, Blood and Violence, Combat, Comedy, Drama and Romance, F/M, Fantasy, Future Fic, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Intense Situations, Manga Continuation, Psychological Horror, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 05:14:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18934177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenoprime1337/pseuds/Xenoprime1337
Summary: It's been a while since Death the Kid brought the human and witch worlds together under the banner of peace. Now, witches are living in Death City, and his colleagues are making their own contributions to his academy's roster. But even Crona-sama can't contain Asura's madness of fear forever.Strong language, OCs, and violence await you. Set in the manga universe's future.





	1. What Happens in Death Vegas...

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Xenoprime1337 here, bringing my first ever officially documented fanfiction...at least on this site. A scary thought, I know. Before you run for the hills, let me just say that I hope you have fun with this. Soul Eater is one of my favorite mangas and one of the first animes I ever watched, so it has a special place in my heart. I want to treat its characters and world right, you know? Do it justice.
> 
> If I feel up to it, I will respond to your reviews at the beginning of each new chapter. Be positive and constructive with your criticism, and I'll respond in kind.
> 
> Bear in mind, I wrote the first four chapters of this a while back and only recently found out about this site, so be gentle. Chapter 4 is more contemporary work, and Chapter 5 will be completely new material when it eventually comes out. I may also split some of the chapters up to make them easier to digest. But we'll see what happens.
> 
> Now that that's out of the way, let's roll up our sleeves and get to work!

It was close to midnight in the ever-busy city of Death Vegas, the bright lights of the big signs and bigger buildings giving the sky a warm orange glow. The whole city had basically become the epicenter of one massive celebration, and the noise seemed to echo out into the desert for miles.

People from all over the country, and even the world, were experiencing the wonders of the strung out paradise…except, perhaps, a disgruntled pair of former lovers currently walking the one place the city lights never touched, a nefarious nexus of alleyways commonly called the Dead End.

One of them was a taller man dressed in an emerald tuxedo, with slicked blonde hair and a small soul patch. The other was a slightly disheveled brunette in a puffy blue dress. The two walked in stormy silence, neither one bothering to spare a glance at the other, the moonlight being their only guide.

Finally, the man spoke.

"You're just makin' a big deal outta nothin'," he said, his rough New York accent coming through.

"Nothing, you said?" the woman asked incredulously. "Unbelievable. You don't care at all, do you? Do these last three months mean anything to you? Anything at all?"

"Look, baby, I-!"

"Don't you call me baby, you beast!" she interrupted sharply. "I gave you my heart, Laurence! My soul! Everything! And look where it got me…"

"Angie, just listen to me!"

"No! I'm tired of listening to you and your lies! Why don't you just go back and cling to your maid friend, Destiny?" Laurence stopped dead in his tracks, taken slightly aback by her out-of-left-field question. "Admit it," Angie said between angry sobs, "It's her you want, not me!"

She started to storm off, hoping that would be the end of it, but Laurence grabbed her by the shoulder, forcing her to stop and look at him. "It's not like that!" he cried, his voice ringing out in the alleyway.

The two paused for a moment, their frenzied thoughts bouncing around in their brains, trying to find an exit in words. No words came. Angie's tears slowly trickled down her cheeks before rolling off and striking the broken tile of the alleyway, prompting her to wipe them away with her hand.

Slowly but surely, the darkness around them began to take shape and surround them, a wall of shadow that completely encompassed them. Laurence gritted his teeth as a shiver went down his spine, the chill of dread settling over him. Angie began to tremble with fear, instinctively grabbing her ex-boyfriend's hand for comfort as the darkness grew thicker and more tangible.

There was something there, directly behind them. Something tangible. A presence.

Then there were footsteps. They jumped at the sound. Someone was coming toward them, walking toward them!

They slowly started shuffling to the northern end of the alley, which would eventually lead them to light and safety. At least, they hoped it would. Things being the way they were, Laurence and Angie were beginning to doubt they were going get out of this alive.

The footsteps got louder…closer. Their hearts started racing. They had to go faster! They quickened their pace, though the alleyway only seemed to be getting longer, their salvation seeming farther and farther away with each and every hurried step.

A figure appeared in the darkness, a hazy shape in the dim light of the moon. Laurence's eyes widened in fear. He kept close to Angie, clutching her hand tightly.

"Wha—? Who's there!?" he called out fearfully. The shadowy figure paused. So did they.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Laurence didn't know what to do. Angie was just as terrified as he was, but neither of them were making the move to run.

The figure moved suddenly, causing them to jump. Whatever was hiding beyond that veil of shadows was surprisingly menacing. It appeared human, but it didn't necessarily...feel human. Finally, after a long, dreadful silence, the thing decided to step out of the darkness and reveal itself.

What stood before Laurence and Angie was, to their surprise and relief, human. He was a medium-height, tan-skinned man with a rough, stubbly jawline and a thick black mustache. His stocky build was enveloped in a steel gray suit, a similarly colored fedora atop his head.

Three gold chains dangled down from around his neck, the longest of these adorned with a small crystalline skull with glaring ruby eyes. He wore several rings on each of his fingers, each one adorned with a different precious stone. An ornate cane was in his right hand, a larger amber jewel nested at its head. A long red feather jutted out from the strap on his hat, his eyes hidden behind a pair of designer sunglasses.

 _"Buenos tardes,"_ he said slowly, giving the couple a malicious smile. "Out for a stroll?"

Laurence eyed him with a mixture of curiosity and fear. "Yeah..." he responded carefully, "...just, uh...out for a stroll..."

"Yes!" Angie said a bit too quickly. "And now we, uh...are going to...go...hit the casinos! Ain't that right, baby?"

"Uh—right!" Laurence said, pulling Angie closer to him. "We''ll uh...see ya later, a'right? Have a, uh—a nice night!"

The newcomer's expression suddenly grew dark as the distraught couple tried their best to back away from him. "Oh no. You two aren't going anywhere. _Amigos!"_

The moment the word touched the night air, two enormous men in dark suits stepped out of the shadows behind the still terrified couple and cut off their escape. The two turned and gasped in surprise. They spared a moment to look back at the mysterious stranger only to have their arms pinned behind their backs by his henchmen.

Struggling proved pointless; the men were just too strong. That didn't stop them from trying, which only served to make the man in the gray suit smile with apparent satisfaction.

"It's a shame your night is going to end this way," he said mockingly. "If it helps, your souls will be supporting a good cause!" His sunglasses slid down his nose as he tilted his head down, his blood red eyes leering out of the shadow of his hat brim. He reached into his coat, and with a gratuitous flourish, pulled out a massive golden-plated revolver.

"...my cause."

* * *

 

The screams rang out seconds before the shots did, although both were drowned out by the sounds of Death Vegas' night life. Fortunately, someone was watching through the lens of his Soul Perception. He focused in on the group just as the two innocent souls among them disappeared from sight.

"That's it, I found 'em," the boy said, glancing over at the girl beside him. "Let's get to work."

"Right," she said confidently, holding out her hand.

The young man just shook his head. "No dice. You can transform when we get there." The girl just gave him a dirty look.

"Fine, don't carry me there. Dickhead," she said, sticking her tongue out at him.

"Just c'mon," the boy retorted over his shoulder, "You could use the exercise."

The girl just resorted to snorting in derision. He gave her a slight grin before jumping over to the rooftop across from them, clearing the gap between buildings in a single bound. Shrugging her shoulders and breathing out an annoyed sigh, she leaped after him, her ash blonde hair billowing out behind her.

They stuck to the high ground, his Soul Perception guiding them to their target, the soul stealer. Their movements were near silent, their presence masked by the night. The moon was their only real source of light, but it wasn't enough to give either of them away to anyone who may have been watching. While stealth wasn't normally a priority for them, it was always nice to get the drop on the enemy when given the opportunity. For the first time in a while, they had that advantage, so they decided to make the most of it.

* * *

 

The man in the steel gray suit was walking down a different branch of the Dead End alley network, chuckling softly despite himself. His operation here in Death Vegas was going well. Better than expected, even.

While soul trafficking was a relatively new business for him, he found that doing the dirty work himself made it feel safer than it was. It gave him a certain...satisfaction. His boys were currently busy carting the night's souls away to the warehouse, where they would be loaded into trucks and sent over the border. He, meanwhile, was just taking a walk.

There was no real need to bring his enforcers. Their time would be better spent speeding up the soul delivery. Besides, he could take care of himself.

_Right?_

All at once, he got the feeling that he wasn't alone. He looked up and down the alleyway, his head turning swiftly side to side. To his chagrin, no one was in sight, not even his boys. But he still had that feeling. That dreadful feeling that someone was watching him.

"Hey, asswipe!" a voice called out.

He took another quick look around, gripping his cane tightly in both hands. " _Qué?_ Who's there?"

That was when he realized that the voice had come from above him and looked up. There he found what he least expected. It was a pair of teenagers, a boy and a girl, both giving him dangerous looks from the rooftop high above him. The moonlight gave their shapes definition, but even from where he was, it was hard to make their faces.

"Who dares?" he snarled.

"Just shut up and listen," the young man said flatly. "Soul trafficker and head of the Sinaloa Cartel, 'El Chapo' Guzmán, you have been marked for death by the Grim Reaper. In his name, we hunt down thugs like you, to preserve peace and order."

El Chapo grimaced. "So, Lord Death has finally found me..."

"Yup," the girl beside the boy answered, "And you're gonna pay for taking those people's souls, you fuckin' lowlife!"

The crime lord just snickered. "Sorry, _chica_ , but human souls are in high demand right now!" He turned and started to walk away from them, stopping only to glance over his shoulder at the two students. "My business is lucrative...and private. I suggest you run back to your _escuela_...unless, of course, you want to die tonight!"

He shot them a devilish grin, his jagged teeth glinting in the moonlight, a physical indication of the evil in his soul.

The young man on the roof scoffed, clearly unimpressed. "There's nowhere to run, El Chapo. The end is near. Your soul is mine!"

He leaped down off the rooftop, holding out his hand. Without any prompting, the girl vanished into a flash of light, replaced by a large scythe.

"Let's go, Nina," he said darkly.

He twirled the scythe above his head before bringing the blade down in an arc, aiming for the top of El Chapo's head. El Chapo jumped back in the nick of time, the scythe blade burrowing into the ground he had been standing on seconds earlier.

As the crime lord felt around in his suit coat for his revolver, he noticed several odd things about the young man's weapon.

For one, the scythe's connection ring bore two elongated, feminine eyes. Even stranger was the fact that one eye was a blood red while the other was a flat gray, almost black. The darkness of the alleyway couldn't hold a candle to the darkness in those eyes, that cold and dangerous gaze.

As the young man removed the blade from the alleyway cobblestone, he noticed that it wasn't just the weapon's irises that were two-toned. The blade itself was also two-toned, one flat blood red, the other jet black. While this struck El Chapo as odd at first, he soon realized that nothing about DWMA was normal, especially the weapons.

El Chapo finally found his revolver, taking aim as the scythe meister sank into a stance. He fired off a few rounds, but the young man charged forward, effortlessly deflecting the bullets by twirling the scythe out in front of him as he ran. He kept the scythe spinning until he was directly in front of El Chapo. Without a word, he swung it in a horizontal arc, aiming for the convict's neck.

The cartel head only barely managed to dodge it, his eyes widening behind his sunglasses as the blade tore through the air above him. The boy followed through with several more slashes, each one coming from a different angle. El Chapo dodged most of them, using his revolver as a shield when he couldn't get out of the way in time. In the gaps between swings, he would fire off a shot or two, but he never landed a hit.

Finally, the young meister brought the scythe over his head for a downward swing, but El Chapo saw it coming. As the blade came down, he slid to the side and fanned the hammer of his revolver, silently thankful that his weapon never ran out of bullets. With a short jump and several twists in midair, the young man managed to dodge all of the bullets, though one managed to put a hole in the black jacket he was wearing.

He took a swipe at El Chapo's legs as he landed, forcing El Chapo to curl into a back flip to avoid getting his legs cut off at the knee. The crime lord landed on the wall behind him, his cane in his left hand and his revolver in his right. With a yell, he pushed off with his legs and leapt straight for the young meister, his revolver pointed at the boy's heart.

But the boy was too quick.

He twirled the scythe out in front of him, putting a wall of spinning metal between him and the crime lord. El Chapo didn't even get the chance to pull the trigger before his gun was knocked out of his hands by the scythe's handle. He was sent flying in the same direction within a few revolutions.

As El Chapo sailed through the air, the young meister put his scythe behind his back. He let the two-toned blade rest on the ground, watching as the convict landed in a heap not six meters away, his golden gun and designer sunglasses clattering to the ground seconds after.

 _"Mierda..."_ El Chapo grunted as he got to his feet. "You're better than I imagined, eh?"

The boy didn't say anything. Instead, he gave his enemy a sly smile, using his free hand to make a universal gesture. Come on, he dared silently. _Come on._

"You just signed your own death warrant!" El Chapo roared. With a flourish, he pressed a button on his cane, causing a small blade to emerge from the bottom. He charged forward, the boy instinctively shifting into a defensive stance. El Chapo went on the offensive, using his cane as a rapier.

The young meister did well enough to block his slashes and redirect his stabs, but he was constantly being pushed back. The crime lord was an astonishingly good fencer.

"You can barely keep up with me, huh?!" he said between slashes.

"Fuck off," the boy said as he deflected another angular swipe. El Chapo tried to skewer him several times, finally resorting to using only stabbing motions. It proved to be his final mistake. With another front-facing twirl, the young meister knocked the cane sword out of El Chapo's hand, leaving him completely vulnerable.

Without giving it a second thought, he swung his scythe up and at an angle, taking off El Chapo's outstretched arm at the shoulder. His cane clattered to the ground, his severed limb landing not too far away from it. The soul trafficker screamed in anguish as blood poured out of his wound, painting the ground around him a vivid red.

He tried to go back for his revolver, but it was no use; he was losing too much blood. It didn't take long before he lost the strength to stand, falling flat on his face not two meters away from his gun. His vision began to blur, his ears began to ring, his breathing became labored and slow. His end was at hand, although he didn't want to believe it.

Using his remaining arm, he turned himself over, staring down his attacker all the while.

"Listen, boy," he said, his blood pooling on the ground around him, "This means noth—"

The young meister didn't wait for him to finish. El Chapo's final thoughts died on his lips as the boy forcefully stepped on his chest, crushing his ribs. The convict spat up blood as he reached for the night sky, grasping at the air as he gasped for breath.

The boy put the blade of his scythe against his neck, its top-facing flat glinting red in the moonlight. El Chapo stared wide-eyed at the blade, his expression fearful. Then, all at once, his expression narrowed dangerously, his crimson eyes speaking volumes of hatred and regret as he looked up as his assailant.

"Do it," he whispered angrily, blood running down his chin. "Do it!"

"Done," the boy said, his expression grim.

Without a moment's hesitation, he used his right foot to push the blade through the crime lord's neck, decapitating him. He stepped off the body as it tore itself into shadowy ribbons, leaving a crimson soul floating above a pool of blood. The boy sighed, the tension leaving his body with a slump of his shoulders.

"That makes sixteen," he said dully, running his fingers through his snow white hair. "Take his soul and let's go. I'd like to get home before 6 AM."

The scythe turned to light in his hands, shifting into a human form. When the light faded, the girl from before was there instead, crouched beside him. Licking her lips greedily, she stood up and sauntered over to the crime boss' soul, smiling all the while. Grabbing it, she popped it into her mouth and swallowed it whole, sighing satisfactorily as it landed in her gut.

"Not too bad," she said happily. "Really hit the spot." She looked back to her brother only to discover that he had already started walking back. "Hey, Specter, wait up!" she said as she trotted after him.

He just kept his hands in his jeans pockets, looking around for a good-sized window. "We need to call Lord Death and report in," he said, not bothering to spare a glance at his sister, who seemed way too happy all of a sudden. He supposed it had something to do with her being a creature of the night combined with a free meal in the form of a soul.

It took him a while, but he eventually found something he could use. He motioned for Nina to stop as he used his breath to mist the glass, writing '42-42-564' on it with his finger. The window instantly went black, its surface becoming that of a television screen. It then began to ring like a cellular phone, blue lines moving across the screen in radial waves.

On the eighth ring, someone answered, making the window burst into a flash of light.

"Hey, Lord Death!" Nina said, apparently to no one, "You still up?"

Just then, the light died out, the black screen replaced with live footage of an endless room with a bright blue sky and sparsely rolling clouds. A line of red wooden arches led to a raised dais, upon which lay the furniture and decor of a home office. A small couch, a comfy-looking armchair and a coffee table were just barely visible behind a beautiful but simple wooden desk. On the desk were two very tall stacks of paper that were perfectly symmetrical in terms of height and position. Books, a coffee mug, a pencil holder, and other small odds and ends were neatly arranged on the polished wood.

The room appeared devoid of people until someone stepped into view. He was a tall, pale-skinned man with thick jet black hair that had three horizontal white stripes cutting through it. His golden eyes were dull with fatigue, and it showed with every small movement he made.

"Yes, yes, I'm here," Shinigami-sama answered. "Who is—? Oh, it's you two."

"Nice to see you too, sir," Specter said dryly.

The Grim Reaper laughed nervously in response. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Things have been...busy...around here." Clearing his throat, Shinigami-sama straightened himself up, his composure and vigor returning to him as he straightened his skull tie. "What do you have to report?" he asked.

Specter shrugged and shot Shinigami-sama a proud half-smile. "The soul trafficker 'El Chapo' Guzmán is dead."

"Ah, wonderful!" he said as he clasped his hands together, "I can finally cross his name off my list. Well done, you two."

"Thanks, boss!" Nina said with a grin.

The Grim Reaper gave the pair a warm smile. "I must say, I'm impressed. You two are well on your way to meeting your first-year evil soul requirement, and so soon. What is this? Fifteen now?"

"Sixteen," Specter corrected.

"Ah, that's right. I forgot you took down that serial killer in Los Angeles last weekend. Keeping track of everyone's soul counts is a little difficult when you have students and faculty to think about. But that's what I have Hiro for." He paused for a moment to think about his next words. "Be sure to turn in your mission assignment to him tomorrow. And by tomorrow, I mean Thursday. No one will be expecting you to be in class _today_. It's already two in the morning, and you still have to get back to Death City."

"Yeah, yeah, we know," Nina said, still somewhat energetic due to the evil soul energy surging through her body.

"Alright, then. Drive safe."

"Will do," Specter said with a nod

"Okay, goodbye." With that, the Grim Reaper's image cut out, leaving Specter and Nina looking at the front window of a run-down toy store.

"You heard him," Specter said, looking at Nina over his shoulder. "Let's get the hell out of here."

It didn't take the two of them long to find their way out of the Dead End, and it didn't take them much longer after that to find Specter's motorcycle. Specter tossed Nina her helmet before putting on his own and hopping onto the bike, gesturing for her to do the same. After pulling away from the sidewalk, the two slowly made their way through the elaborate, exquisite labyrinth that is Death Vegas.

Specter focused on the road, watching for drunken tourists. Nina, meanwhile, looked everywhere else, dazzled in every way possible by the sights and sounds of the gambling town. When they made it onto the main highway out, Specter gunned it, forcing Nina to hold onto him tighter.

 _Now we're talking,_ Specter thought to himself. _No sense in wasting any more time..._

Luckily for him, no one was on the road. After all, everyone who wanted to be in Death Vegas was already there, and no one ever bothered to leave, especially not at this hour. It was a good thing, too, because if Nina tapping away incessantly on his shoulder was any indication, she wasn't going to go quietly into the night. He could only handle so much noise.

"You've got my attention," Specter said over his shoulder. "What do you want?"

"Hey, are we gonna do anything about El Chapo's goons?"

"No," he said flatly, "Hiro said somebody else would take care of them."

"Fuckin'..." Nina trailed off, visibly disappointed. "Who do you think'll do it?"

"I don't know, probably Mr. Barret. He's good at that kind of shit." Specter looked up to see the moon seated high in the night sky, grinning like always. Blood was seeping through his teeth and onto his chin, a sign that a lot of people had been killed all at once. Specter couldn't help but grin, too.

It looked as though someone had taken care of the Sinaloa Cartel's installment in Death Vegas after all. Blood continued to pour out of the moon's mouth like a waterfall as he chuckled softly to himself, watching as the two sibling students made their way home. Specter just looked back to the road. He couldn't afford to be distracted.

After all, the road back to Death City was a long one.

* * *

**Omake**

Sid Barrett, covert operative for the DWMA, stood atop a wooden brace in the roofing of an abandoned warehouse on the eastern edge of Death Vegas. Below him, various men in dark suits loaded crates full of souls into moving trucks.

Despite their boss having been killed less than an hour previous, the Sinaloa Cartel's soul trafficking business was still in full swing. Sid knew well that the trucks were headed to México, where the souls they contained would be sold to the highest bidder. That couldn't be allowed to happen. Why else would Shinigami-sama have sent him?

"Ready to go, Naigus?" Sid asked, glancing down at the combat knife in his hand.

"All set, Sid," she replied, her likeness appearing on the flat of the blade.

"Alright. Now, all we have to do is wait for the right moment to—!" Sid was interrupted by the sound of wood splintering. He looked down to discover that the beam he was standing on was giving way.

"Shit."

Agile as always, he sprung into a back flip, landing neatly on a nearby stack of crates just as a good portion of the roof came crashing down.

Down below, one of El Chapo's goons was busy loading crates when he heard a sharp snapping sound. He looked up just in time to see the roof supports come down, screaming quite pathetically as they crushed and killed him, leaving his soul to float among the splinters. The resulting sound made everyone in the warehouse stop what they were doing and investigate.

Some of them saw Sid and alerted their cohorts to his presence. Others grabbed weapons from crates in the warehouse. None of them ran away.

"You were saying?" Naigus said dryly as the men pulled out their various weapons.

"Well, looks like the right moment to strike has passed," Sid said mostly to himself, standing up straighter as he twirled Naigus between his fingers. "Guess I'll have to improvise. That's not so bad. After all, I'm good at improvising." He stopped twirling. "That's the kind of man I was."

Naigus just sighed. "What happens in Death Vegas..."

The moon's mouth filled with blood as the undead assassin slaughtered El Chapo's men, stamping out the Death Vegas branch of the Sinaloa Cartel once and for all.


	2. The Survival Instinct

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter gets dark in places. The psychological horror tag? That wasn't a bluff. But it's also kind of an overstatement. It isn't horrible, but it's not kittens and sunshine, either. You've been warned.

_Background: A lone, unmarked, two-lane highway snakes its way through the grassy hills of central California. Somewhere on this highway is a motel, the Motel Bates, rumored to be the home of a psychopathic serial killer._

_Objective: Investigate, and assassinate the serial killer._

_Requirements: Skill and Bravery._

That was what the mission statement had said, but she had the feeling it was going to take more than skill and bravery to complete her task.

The wind played with her thick silver hair as she stood on that lonesome highway, the cold washing over her as night settled over the valley. On the side of the road across from her sat the rather dilapidated Motel Bates, its oddly well-maintained neon sign painting the tarmac a bright blue.

"So this is where we'll find him," she said softly, "The serial killer Jigsaw Bates."

"Gray Star..."

She looked down at the ninjato sword she was holding, turning it over in her hands. The visage of a young man with dark green hair soon appeared on the flat of the blade.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked, his expression grim.

"Of course I am, Sage," she said, giving him a half smile.

"Good. Then let's begin."

At that, Gray Star pulled the neck of her turtleneck up over her nose and disappeared, leaving a small cloud of dust in her wake. She reappeared at the front door of the motel, and after testing the latch, slipped inside, her movements silent. As the door closed behind her with a creak, she took in her surroundings, scanning for hazards.

The foyer was just as decrepit as the façade, the rugs moth-eaten and the wood old and creaky. The room was octagonal, with windows on either side of the door. Moonlight peeked through the slats that were nailed to the window frames, motes of dust floating freely in the negative space. There were two flights of stairs, the banisters meeting in the middle on the second floor.

Several medieval suits of armor stood in the corners of the room, coated in rust, dust, and spider webs. Paintings took up most of the wall space, though the paintings themselves were in horrible condition. The little light in the room came from candles in various places, the grisly remains of what had been a chandelier lying on the rug in the center.

_This place is straight up abandoned_ , Gray Star thought. _How can this be the home of a serial killer?_

A sinister laugh rang out around her, an unwelcome answer to her unasked question.

_So much for that..._

"Welcome, my dear," a dark, raspy voice bellowed out. "I want to play a game...do you want to play a game with me?"

Gray Star stood up straighter. "I don't have time for games." In response, the floor beneath the young meister opened into a trap door, the pit below lined with large metal spikes. She managed to jump before the floor fell away, landing on the left banister. With a soft clicking sound, the wall closest to her slid apart, revealing an impossible number of kitchen knives.

A blast of compressed air sent them flying at her, but with an artful flip, she managed to dodge them, landing on the banister again as the knives hit the opposite wall with several resounding thunks. She ran up the remaining length of the banister and jumped, landing partway down the hallway closest to her.

Inverting her grip on her partner's ninjato form, she proceeded to check every room for a sign of Bates. There was nothing in the first room. Nor the second. Nor the third. After the twelfth, everything started to look the same. The dust, the paintings, the furniture... _everything_ was the same. That was, at least, until she reached the last room on the left.

Opening the door, Gray Star found, to her surprise, a room that was almost completely empty, save for a wooden chair in its center. The chair was occupied by a large teddy bear with its leg caught in a gruesome-looking bear trap. Its rusty metal teeth ate into the plush toy, something like blood pouring from the wound and onto the bare wooden floor.

Between the bear's legs sat a rather old television set. With a click, it turned on, the image of a man wearing a mask appearing on screen. The mask was white, with heavily exaggerated facial features and red swirls on the cheeks. There were holes for the eyes, and even from where Gray Star was standing, his blood red irises were clearly visible.

"Hello," he said darkly, "I want to play a game."

Gray Star felt her breath catch. It was almost as if his gaze was a tangible entity, reaching out and choking the life out of her. It wasn't a feeling she had often. Hell, she had never felt it before. Was he... _real?_

She mentally waved the fearful notion aside. This was no time to lose out to fear. "Where are you?" she asked sharply, poking a free finger at the screen.

The madman simply laughed, sending chills down Gray Star's spine. "I think it's time we play a game of hide-and-seek. Come and find me...if you can."

That was when Gray Star heard that distinct sound, the characteristic hiss of a fuse lighting. Then it came to her. The dust, the wood, the walls...it was all meant to hide it from her. It was a trap...she could smell it, now.

_Gunpowder._

"Gray Star!"

She bolted down the hall just as the room exploded, a torrent of fire racing after her as she leaped over the banister and landed in the center of the foyer. Not wasting any time, she ducked into the kitchen as the upstairs began to burn, the smoke following her through the vents in the walls.

Looking around, she found that this room wasn't faring any better than the rest of the motel, the same dust and spider webs infecting it like a plague. There was no time to lose; whatever hadn't caught fire already would collapse soon enough, it was only a matter of minutes. Still, it made the task of finding Jigsaw Bates fairly easy. There was only one place he could be: the basement.

Gray Star was about to open the door to that basement when she heard something, something...strange. The sound of crackling flames and snapping wood subsided, slowly replaced by an unsettling whine mixed with a continuous cacophony of strange noises. It was almost as if an audio tape of the motel burning down was being played in reverse. The noise went on for several minutes, jumping drastically in volume from time to time. Then, all at once, it stopped.

_What the hell is going on back there?_ Gray Star tightened her grip on Sage. Half of her told her to investigate. The other half told her it was pointless. In the end, Sage was the deciding vote. She turned to look at him, his face appearing on the flat of the blade in response. He silently nodded his head. No doubt he was thinking the same thing; something was wrong.

Quietly, Gray Star walked back to the door she had come in through, opening it slowly. What met her eyes next was the last thing that she expected, and was more than enough to convince her to open the door fully and reenter the foyer.

The place was in pristine condition compared to before, and even that could be considered an understatement. The formerly empty space of the high ceiling was now occupied by a beautiful crystal chandelier, the moonlight that seeped in through the now unbarred windows making it glisten. All the furniture, the flooring, the suits of armor, even the paintings looked like new. The foyer actually smelled like the scented candles on the accent tables were supposed to make it smell; the smoke from the fire was gone.

Gray Star was stunned. _How did this happen?  
_

A resounding laugh gave her her answer.

"Thanks for the help," Gray Star said dully. Her sarcasm was met only with another laugh. She paid him no mind. After walking back into the kitchen, still careful to watch for traps, she threw open the basement door and leaped into the shadows.

There was no turning back now.

* * *

It took Gray Star what felt like hours to descend the long set of spiraling steps that led into the basement. When she finally reached the bottom of the stairs, she found a lone wooden door waiting for her. It was an old door, with peeling paint and a rusted handle. It didn't look like much, but after what had happened earlier, she knew she couldn't risk walking into another trap. She decided to use her extrasensory perception to see past the door. To her surprise, nothing was there. _Nothing_.

Sage, noticing her confused expression, looked up at her from his soul pocket, the grayish-green void around him. "What is it, Gray Star?"

She paused for a moment to consider her answer. "I don't know," she said finally. "I can't sense anything past that door. It's almost as if..." she trailed off, realizing what that could mean.

Without thinking, she rushed over to the door and opened it, only to find a brick wall. _What the hell?_ It took a moment for Gray Star to register what she was seeing. A wall where a doorway should be. Her eyes widened in realization.

On instinct, she turned and raced back up the stairs, convinced that the basement in and of itself was some kind of trap. She hadn't gotten far when she heard a faint sound from somewhere below her. Looking back, she saw something she didn't expect to see.

Water was filling the stairwell.

"Sage, soul resonance," she said quickly.

"Understood," he said calmly. Gray Star reached out with her soul wavelength, a lone candle in a dark room that hummed with the energy of a warrior god. Sage received it with great care, cradling it with his own wavelength, amplifying its already incredible power. Finally, their souls connected completely, the air around them beginning to vibrate with energy.

"Soul resonance... _acquired!"_ they said in unison. Gray Star took one last step before using their shared power to augment her physical capabilities, an ability called—

**"Speed Star!"**

In the instant after the words left her lips, the young meister disappeared from sight, becoming a faint girl-shaped blur of motion that tore through the air. It took her mere seconds to get back to the top of the stairs, the air behind her rushing past her as she stopped dead in her tracks. She found another door there, a door that was different from the one she had initially opened to get into the stairwell. This door looked brand new, with glossy black paint and a silver latch.

Gray Star knew she couldn't stay here, but somehow, the idea of going through that door sounded like a bad idea to her. Hearing the water catching up to her, she knew she didn't have a choice. She threw the door open and stepped through it, only to find a long hallway filled with doors. It was poorly lit; she could barely make out how many doors there were or even how long the hallway was. From what she could see, each door was exactly the same, white with a silver knob. What was going on?

The sound of rushing water coming from behind reminded her why she had come in here to begin with.

"Oh, shit!" She quickly slammed the door behind her, leaning against it for support as she wiped her brow. She breathed a sigh of relief. _So much for that trap._ Then she realized something was off. She tried to see past the door, but once again, she found that nothing was there. "No way..."

"What is it, Gray Star?" Sage asked sharply.

"The water...it's gone. I can't see anything past the door. Not again..." She opened the door. Another wall. "Oh, fuck me." Her heart started beating faster. Sweat continued to draw lines on her face faster than she could erase them. _I'm not scared_ , she told herself, _I'm not scared at all._

She turned around, expecting to see that same dimly lit hallway. Instead, she found that she was now inside a room the size of a broom closet. _What the fuck is going on?_ The ceiling lamp above her did little to light the space around her. Gray Star could almost feel the shadows in the corners begin to reach out for her. She turned to the door, but it wasn't there. It was then that the reality of the situation hit her like a train. It was then that the light went out.

Fumbling around in the darkness, her foot managed to hit something jutting out of the floor. Reaching down, she grabbed ahold of it, surprised at what she felt in her hand.

_A...doorknob?_

Without thinking, she twisted it, gravity seeming to shift as she fell through the doorway and landed on a cold hard floor. Looking up, she found that she was back in that dimly lit hallway from before. She jumped at the sound of the door she had come through slamming shut behind her. It took Gray Star all she had to look back at the door, or at least, where the door used to be.

The door was gone, but there was something there, on the wall. Something small. It was hard to see, mostly because of the poor lighting. Getting up slowly, she continued to look at it, her curiosity strangely piqued.

Before she could make any sense of it, something snapped around her head from above, forcing her mouth open and filling it with the taste of rust, her turtleneck falling uselessly below her chin. She tried to scream, but found that she couldn't. Her eyes widened in surprise and fear. Maybe she _should_ have been more careful.

"Gray Star!" Sage disappeared into a flash of light, reappearing beside his meister. "Are you hurt?"

That sickening laugh sounded once again, causing Gray Star to look frantically up and down the corridor. Sage's expression became dark as he shifted into a low stance, prepared for anything.

"No, she's not hurt," Bates said evilly. "Not _yet_."

"What have you done to her?" Sage said, standing and looking directly at what Gray Star had seen on the wall, which happened to be a small pinhole camera.

"You were taking too long," he replied. "So I changed the rules. Find the key before the timer goes off, and you can save her."

"What have you done to her!?" Sage asked again, more forcefully.

"It's a simple contraption really. Think of it as a...reverse bear trap."

Gray Star's eyes widened at that, a single tear spilling out onto her cheek. All of a sudden, death seemed to be a very real possibility for her. Her father had always taught her to be fearless, but she had somehow forgotten all that. She just stood there, trembling. It was impossible. The whole damn thing was impossible. She felt like she was going to lose it.

_Is this the madness of fear?_

She almost jumped when Sage put his hand on her shoulder, which caused her to turn and look at him.

"Don't worry," he said calmly. "I won't let this happen to you. I promise." Gray Star blinked at him, her expression blank. It wasn't like Sage to make promises. Then again, when he did make promises, he always kept them. It was just the way he operated. With that realization came some peace. Gray Star felt her breathing and heart rate slow down. The show wasn't over yet. After all, the times could never catch up with her father. Who was to say she wasn't the same way?

Sage turned back to the camera. "Where is the key?"

"It's in one of the rooms in this hallway. I suppose this is more of a game of treasure hunt than hide-and-seek, but the end goal is still the same: your partner's life."

Gray Star shuddered slightly at that last remark, struggling to avoid thinking about what that could mean for her. Sage, however, seemed unfazed.

"How much time do I have?" he asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"From now?" Bates paused for a moment, as if checking his watch. "Ten minutes."

In the space between seconds, Sage disappeared into the first door on his left, leaving a trail of dust behind him. Gray Star felt herself relax a little. He had always talked about how he could never beat her in a footrace, yet, judging from what she had just seen, he was faster than he thought he was. It brought her a limited, temporary form of comfort, and as the dust settled down, she breathed out a heavy sigh through her nose. One way or another, everything was going to turn out fine.

That was what she thought, until she felt something wrap itself around her leg.

* * *

Sage ducked into every passage he found, looking for anything that held a key. As he opened the doors that appeared in front of him, the ones behind him disappeared. He encountered countless traps, though they weren't unlike the ones he and Gray Star had run into before.

One of the rooms was rigged with a small explosive, but he managed to dive back and out of the blast radius just before it went off. Not too long after, a wall of nails was launched at him from behind. He jumped into an adjacent room, only to have his exit blocked by a wall that came out of the floor. Dusting himself off, he looked down to discover that the walls and floor of the room in front of him were covered in a gel-like substance.

From the smell of it, it was flammable, and he had the feeling that some kind of igniting mechanism was somewhere close by. Sure enough, a torrent of lit matches fell from a door in the ceiling.

Not wasting any time, Sage dashed forward and grabbed all of the matches out of the air, his hands moving fast enough to put out the ones he caught. When that was done, he walked to the other end of the room, scraping the gunk off his shoes and tossing the fizzled matches aside. He had to keep moving.

Sage knew that trying to keep track of his location and direction was impossible in this twisted place. Instead, he focused on how much time he had left, counting the seconds down in his head. He knew his objective couldn't be far, now. There were only two minutes and fifty-four seconds left. Finally, he threw open what he thought to be the final door. What he found waiting in the room beyond it wasn't thrilling.

On the far end of the room was a small wooden table with a glass jar sitting on it. The jar was filled with a strange green liquid, and at the bottom lay what he assumed to be the key that would free his meister. The room was completely empty, save for the table and the jar. Moonlight cut its way into the room through a single window on Sage's left, the only other light coming from the green substance in the jar. Sage hesitated to think about what it could be.

He carefully moved his way around the room, still looking for snares. When he found that there were none, he calmly walked over to the table. He gave the strange setup a thorough examination, being careful not to touch the table or the jar.

_It can't be this easy_ , he thought, his brow narrowing. _What is this liquid?_ He decided to find out. He reached for the jar, half-expecting it to burn his hand, but instead found that it was just a normal jar. Eyeing it curiously, he proceeded to turn the jar over in an attempt to see what the liquid would do to the floor.

To his eternal surprise, nothing came out of the jar. Sage's eyes widened. The liquid seemed to be unaffected by physics, for it refused to spill out, despite the jar's orientation. He shook it a few times, just to make sure the law of gravity was still intact. It didn't change anything. Nothing came out of the jar. Convinced now that something was very wrong, he came up with a new solution to the problem. Perhaps shattering the jar was the only way to safely empty its contents.

Without giving it a second thought, Sage hurled the jar at the farthest wall. Instead of hearing the shattering sound he was expecting, he watched with wide eyes as the jar sailed _through_ the wall. He took a preemptive step back, not sure what was going to come next. To his amazement, the jar began to materialize on the table, shifting through space as if it existed on another dimensional plane. He blinked. There was no way this was possible.

Then again, maybe it _was_. In this twisted place, Sage realized with a sigh, it was indeed possible. It was exactly what Bates wanted from him. The only solution left was to do the one thing he knew he didn't want to do.

He had to put his hand in the jar.

Bates's voice returned once again, confirming his suspicion. "Ah-ah-ah," he said, as if wagging a finger at a naughty child, "No cheating."

After going over all other possible options, Sage knew there was no other way. Bates was toying with him. In this scenario, outthinking him wasn't going to work. If this was all a game, he supposed he would have to play along, even if it meant suffering for it. He reached out with his left hand, the tips of his fingers hovering just over the surface of the green liquid. Everything told him not to do it, but he knew that he had to. His time was almost up.

There was only a minute and eleven seconds left to save Gray Star.

His hesitation left him in an instant. His eyes narrowed in determination as he recalled the look of sheer terror on his meister's face, that single tear that rolled down her cheek and stained the device that was primed to rip her head apart. There was no way he could let that happen. None. No matter how dire the situation, no matter what it took, he would save her. He had made a promise.

His left hand plunged into the green liquid at a speed near incomprehensible, instantly grabbing hold of the key. Time seemed to freeze in that moment, the world drawing in a slow, shaky breath. It was in that split second before everything went to hell that he realized what he had done. Before he could pull his hand out, the jar closed around his hand, trapping it with the key...and the green liquid.

* * *

The razor wires dug deep into Gray Star's skin as she hung there in space, strung up by her wrists, ankles and throat. All around her were swirling patterns of blood red and black, jagged edges of teeth and claws reaching out at her from the pockets of shadow that pooled in her peripheral vision.

It was as if she was in some sadistic kaleidoscope, each turn of the tunnel opening the young girl's mind to more horrors than before. Her eyes stayed in a perpetual state of terrified openness, darting all around. Every time she tried to close them, her puppet strings would tighten, eliciting a scream of pain that she couldn't hear. Every passing second was more torture, more suffering. Every tear she shed was met with a new, more terrifying feeling.

Her eyes widened as she felt one of those new, terrifying feelings. A...slippery, scaly feeling. Looking down, she realized that snakes, snakes of all kinds, were coiling themselves around her. No, worse than that. They were snaking their way _through_ her, freely entering and exiting her body as if she were composed entirely of water. She could feel them melt through her skin, shivering as they slithered up her veins and twisted up her spinal column. Her nerves were on fire, cold sweat pouring out of every possible opening.

It was starting to be more than Gray Star could take.

Eventually, a green snake with beady purple eyes emerged from the base of her neck, curving its body so that it was looking her dead in the face. It opened its mouth to reveal a sickening, gyroscopic mass of bright orange and turquoise, sharp black edges set in rings of fire spiraling impossibly toward and away from her. It looked like fire, but it felt like ice, an extreme cold that chilled her just from looking at it.

The snake opened its mouth fully, wrapping its rubbery jaw around Gray Star's head. With little effort, the snake severed her head from her shoulders with a snap, leaving her body to writhe as its fellow serpents began to tear away at her flesh, as her head began the long journey through the twisted mass that made up its insides. She could still feel the snakes tearing her body apart, the blood pouring out of her body, her organs spilling out onto pins and needles.

Gray Star screamed out again, her tears staining the air around her as she plummeted down an endless tunnel of visual anguish. Her screams seemed to be drowned out by some impossible pressure, an inescapable dread that encompassed her entire being. What was happening?

Oh, yeah. She was going mad.

She continued to fall, a sickening laugh following her down.

_Is this the madness of fear?_

* * *

Sage was at that moment a shifting blur of motion, darting through doors and rooms at impossible speeds. His hand was on fire, a slow, agonizing pain creeping up from his fingers to his wrist. The acid was still eating away at his skin, but he knew he couldn't stop to remove the jar from his hand, as he had only seconds left to get back to Gray Star. Ignoring the pain, he pushed through the next door, finding an enormous, horrifyingly disfigured grizzly bear waiting for him in the room beyond.

It roared at him, blood and spittle exiting in a spray from its mouth. It was restrained only by the bear trap clamped onto its leg, the blood from the wound pooling at its feet. Not wasting any time, Sage willed a single curved blade to appear where his left foot was, jumping and slashing downward at an angle. The bear's head was cut clean from its shoulders, and as its body faded to into a black mist, Sage landed carefully on his other foot. Reverting his bladed foot back to normal, he opened the next door and disappeared through it.

_Fifty seconds._

The next few rooms held more traps and monstrosities, but Sage barely paid them any mind, avoiding them with an air of dead-set determination. Reaching a red door with no handle, he kicked it in, noticing only an instant before entering that the room was upside-down.

Flipping in midair to adjust to the modified gravity, Sage landed on the hardwood floor in a crouch. Hearing a quiet clicking sound, he darted ahead just as part of the ceiling above came loose and crashed down where he had been seconds before, the floorboards splintering from the impact. He looked around in a sort of tranquil frenzy, searching for the next door. Finding it to his left, he leaped toward it.

Before he could reach it, however, it moved out of the way, gliding across the walls as if they were made of ice. Sage slid to a stop. Instantly understanding the ploy, he willed his right arm to become a kusarigama, aiming the hooked blade at the door. Judging its rather erratic path, he swung his arm and launched the blade to the far corner of the room, a seemingly infinite length of silver chain spilling out of his arm. The blade hit the door with a thunk, digging into the wood. Retracting the chain connected to the scythe end, Sage reeled himself in and used his momentum to smash through the door, landing in the next room.

_Thirty seconds._

This room was full of mirrors, mirrors of every shape and size. They were twisted in strange ways, the glass bubbling in and out at random. It was very much like a funhouse mirror maze, except the room had an atmosphere that was far more sinister. Knowing better than to take anything in this motel at face value, Sage took off down one of the three paths laid out for him, careful to look for traps in the floor or the ceiling.

As he ran, he began to notice that his reflections in the mirrors were changing as he passed, shifting. Normally, he wouldn't have paid it any mind, but the images he saw as he glanced side to side became more fluid over time. It was almost as if they were... _alive_.

Suddenly, a reflection leaped out from its place in one of the mirrors, grabbing hold of Sage and dragging him to the floor. While it was essentially a mirror image of him, the thing was horribly disfigured, twisted by the strange shape of the mirror it had come from. Sage struggled under its weight, trying desperately to get out from under it, but to no avail.

Looking back in abject horror as more reflections began to file out of the mirrors and run towards him with malice in their eyes, Sage willed his free forearm to become a dark katana. He tried to fight them off, but they began to pile up on top of him, a mass of flailing limbs and twisted bodies crushing him from above. The first reflection stared eagerly at its prize, reaching forward and grabbing Sage by the throat. The young weapon could only smile, however.

They had fallen for it.

Sage disappeared in a cloud of black smoke, leaving his mirrored copies to writhe in confusion and anger. The Sage that the mirrors had been trying to tie down was actually a shadow dummy. The real Sage had been busy solving the maze, his presence obscured by the shadows. Reaching the end of the far left path, he disappeared through the door that led out of the room, finding that he was once again in that dimly lit hallway.

_Ten seconds._

* * *

Drowning in shadows and blood, Gray Star looked up from the merciless black waves that crashed over her, tensing as the enormous nails that pinned her body to the colorless cliffs behind her began to burn her flesh from the inside out. The ever-crescent moon was there in the sky, blood red and menacing, its expression most gruesome. Light didn't seem to radiate from the celestial body, rather darkness seemed to _spill_ from it, filling the endless sea in front of Gray Star with the tar-like substance that she was currently being assaulted by.

She closed her eyes as the next wave came, clenching her teeth as her insides caught fire, her skin being seared by invisible pokers that seemed to skewer her from all sides. Shaking bodily from the pain, Gray Star barely managed to open her eyes, expecting yet another wave to come at her. With a shudder, she realized that the waves had died down slightly. The mass of shadowy, sickening water still thrashed about, but suddenly seemed unconcerned with torturing her.

Looking ahead, Gray Star could almost swear she saw a light coming from the edge of the dark horizon, a tiny white light lost in a world of black. It was small, but it started to grow brighter, as if it was coming closer. Her heart twinged. What, was a train coming to flatten her? She didn't know what to expect except, perhaps, more pain. But the pain she felt then was just a footnote. There was no point in resisting anymore. She was too far gone.

That was when she noticed something faintly familiar about the approaching light. It was a ghost of a memory, akin to the feeling one would have if they saw a long forgotten friend, or a distant relative they hadn't seen in years. A flicker of hope flashed through her, only to be dashed by the darkness.

Whoever it was, they were in for a rough time. Gray Star didn't even know if she _wanted_ to be saved anymore. For all she knew, she was already dead. To save her now would be pointless; it would only bring her and those who knew her more pain. A tear spilled down her cheek at the thought, causing another wave of shadowy muck and blood to rush over her, though this time she hardly felt it.

Why couldn't she just die?

Looking at the light more closely, she managed to find her answer. It was Sage; Sage was the light. Though, oddly enough, his appearance was very different from what she remembered. From what she could see, he was dressed in a set of silver samurai armor with a white cloak and a straw hat, riding on the back of a bright white horse. A black katana was in his hand, raised overhead as if to cut some invisible thread high above him.

Several questions came to her mind, none of which were truly relevant, given the circumstances. She couldn't know what was coming next. To make matters worse, the water around her suddenly became very still, save for a few ripples emanating from the horse's hooves as they struck its surface. Sage was still quite a distance away, and Gray Star knew better than to assume she was in the clear.

That same horrid laughter rang out through the dark space around her, and the horrid blood moon cackled along with it, creating a cacophonous blend of sharp sounds that seemed to drive needles into her ears. The young meister had had just about enough. Madness, in its most horrific form, was weaving threads of fear and malice through her mind, tearing at her reason and sapping her will. Whatever Sage was doing, she hoped it could end her misery one way or another. It was the only thing she could do.

**THIS IS THE MADNESS OF FEAR.**

* * *

Sage charged straight for Gray Star, barely noticing that the glass prison enveloping his left hand was in the slow process of melting away. As he ran, the doors in front of him began to open and close randomly, trying to slow him down. He dodged them rather easily, his pace staying constant. Finally getting close enough, he could see that Gray Star was in a world of pain.

Not only was she strung up by razor wires, but her eyes were glazed over with pure terror, unable to find purchase in reality. He could see the tears running down her face, the fear in her expression. It drove him forward, quickened his step, focused his mind. Time seemed to slow down, his eyes narrowing with determination.

Darting through the narrow gap between the remaining doors that had opened to block him, Sage managed to jump up and shove the key into the lock on the back of the rusty contraption that encompassed Gray Star's head. He used his forward momentum to turn the key and wrench the horrid thing off of his meister's skull just as the jaw pieces snapped apart, flinging it down the hallway and into the farthest wall.

Stopping only a moment to catch his breath, he used his now free left hand to form a kusarigama, wincing as a wicked bolt of pain shot up his arm. He looked at the blade with dismay and frustration, knowing well that the acid had done a significant amount of damage to his hand and forearm, but not quite willing to accept it.

Shrugging off the burning sensation, he willed his other hand to become a matching kusarigama blade. He then proceeded to cut his meister down from her snare, watching as the silver strands fell uselessly to the ground. Gray Star fell only for a moment before he caught her in his arms, her form falling limply in his grasp, almost lifeless.

Sage watched her intently, gripping her hand tightly in his. She was, thankfully, still breathing, but her eyes were still lost in space. Her body was still shivering, her skin cold to the touch. All Sage could do was hold her and wait.

It took her several minutes, but Gray Star eventually came out of whatever trance she was in, her expression completely shadowed by her sweat-slicked silver hair. Without a word, she motioned for Sage to put her down, her feet touching solid ground for the first time in what seemed like ages. Trembling, but still standing, Gray Star pulled up her turtleneck with her left hand and reached out to Sage with her right, her soul wavelength quivering slightly at the very motion.

"Sage," she said in a dark whisper, "Uncanny Sword Mode."

Nodding, Sage transformed in a flash of light, shaping his body into a katana with a black blade, the cursed sword Gray Star had seen in her torturous nightmare. Holding it gently, she brought Sage in front of her, raising her free hand to her face, forming the most common ninjutsu hand seal. Reaching out with her soul wavelength, Gray Star began to forcibly draw power from the Uncanny Sword, the shadows around her coalescing at her feet.

Sage, noticing the darkness permeating Gray Star's normally warm wavelength, forced it back, amplifying the resonance rate. As he did, the gray-green void around him began to drown in blackness, thick, tangible shadow pooling around him. He began to feel the darkness crawling across his skin as night black tattoos drew artful arcs on his bare body. Gray Star experienced a similar feeling, the same black lines appearing on her skin, as well.

Their shared power began to shape the shadows around her into snake-like projections, three insidious creatures with cruel, angular white slits for eyes. The hallway began to vibrate with energy, the doors lining either side shuddering, opening and closing at random. The world began to slowly melt into darkness, Gray Star's eyes glowing white hot as she glared angrily at something, something on the wall that she _knew_ she hated.

That pinhole camera, the one that had drawn her into that awful illusion; the killer behind it, deserving wholly the vengeance she was about to wreak upon him. Her grip on Sage's handle tightened. This was it.

"HwooOoOh!" A raging cry surged from her mouth, a terrifying sound that only seemed to further amplify her already staggering soul wavelength, stirring the darkness she had roused in the Uncanny Sword. She looked up, her face drawn into an expression almost demonic. Her veins began to pop from the surface of her skin, her entire body pulsing with incredible energy, one massive earth-shattering heartbeat after another.

The shadows at her feet began to shift, swirling around her with a the force of a tempest. Then she shouted, _screamed_ out in a voice not her own—

**"Shadow Star!"**

The floor beneath her instantly buckled, shattering into a sea of cracks and crevices, a deep crater forming at her feet. Around her, the walls began to shudder, the doors closest to her knocked clean off their hinges by the sheer force alone. Gray Star still looked dead ahead, intent on finding that bastard and cutting him to ribbons. Nothing was going to get in her way. Nothing. Whatever pain she was feeling left her body in an instant and was replaced with rage, a desire for revenge, and a rush of hellish adrenaline.

"Haaaaah!" With another harsh shout, she surged forward, blasting through the wall directly in front of her. The shadows clung to her form as the hallway behind her crumbled and collapsed, devastated from the shock of her soul wavelength. Sage focused his mind on the three shadowy forms he had under his command, the snake creatures with the burning white eyes.

As Gray Star smashed through every wall she ran into and slashed through everything that was foolish enough to get in her way, he did his part to tear down Bates' deathtrap of a basement. Whatever she managed to miss, he didn't, whipping the dark forms out and around to ensure total destruction.

After several minutes of thrashing, bashing, and uncompromising aggression, the two knocked down the final barrier, entering into a room filled with the greenish glow of hundreds of old television monitors. There, not ten meters away, his silhouette defined in dim relief against the light of the monitors, stood the serial killer Jigsaw Bates. A black cloak, a white mask with red swirls on the cheeks and a permanent smile, matted black hair...glowing red eyes.

Gray Star stared into those unforgiving dots of crimson with a burning hatred, a visual vehemence that dared him to try something, anything. Her expression was that of a wild animal, no longer the face of the tortured little girl she had been mere moments ago. The shadows at her feet began to pool out, becoming a raging sea of darkness brimming with blind rage and fury.

Watching carefully from his soul pocket, Sage brought the three shadow projections down to two, sensing his meister's intent. They stood at either side, ready to strike at a moment's notice. Bates didn't move an inch. The air in the room became very tense, with an elasticity pulled so taught that it was on the cusp of snapping. The space around Gray Star's thrashing ocean of shadows began to shift just as the killer reached into his cloak. For a moment, the earth stood still.

And then it all went to hell.

The floors, walls and ceiling in front of Bates became a mess of gnarled, jagged, rusty metal spikes. The spikes moved wildly, shooting in every direction possible in order to skewer Gray Star. She hardly paid them any mind, dancing and darting out of their way with an air of intensity, the whole time keeping her focus locked on Bates. As she moved, Bates moved with her, shifting side to side. Every once in a while, one of the spikes would get too close, prompting Sage to halt its movement with one of his shadow puppets.

After several minutes, Gray Star saw an opening, a path straight to their target, hindered only slightly by the hazardous projections coming out of the floor and ceiling. With but a slight shift in her wavelength, her partner instantly understood her plan, sending the shadows forward ahead of her.

"I have you now," Gray Star said under her breath.

In a mere instant, she was gone, a streak of silver in the air. The spikes rotated in their sockets, looking to cut her down before she could clear the heavy metal deathtrap's area of effect. They surged forward, only to be stopped short by the tendrils of shadow snaking around them, restraining them. A devilish smile spread across Gray Star's face as she cleared the gap, landing safely on the other side. Bates, visibly surprised, reached into his cloak once more.

Before he could find what he was looking for, Sage sent his dark puppets scrambling across the floor, grinning with slight satisfaction as they snaked up the killer's body. With a sharp snapping sound, the lines of shadow constricted, crushing Bates' bones like chalk. The man's body convulsed as much as the shadows would allow him to, blood spurting from the mouth of his mask.

Eyes wide with fear, he looked for his assailant, but she was gone. To his eternal displeasure, she was already in the process of closing the gap between them, her form blurring in and out of visibility as she dashed toward him. Bates' eyes darted around independently from each other, his vision scrambling to find that girl with the silver hair, the one that was making him bleed through his teeth. Suddenly, a burning pain came to rest in his abdomen, a horizon of fire, a black lash with the edge of a blade.

The cut was clean, effortless, almost as if an artist had drawn a line through him with a calligraphy brush. Gray Star came to a stop just behind her target, holding Sage's black blade parallel to the ground. She kept a white-knuckle grip on his handle, her face shadowed by her hair. As the shadows loosened their grip on the evil soul, Gray Star said something to herself, something simple and quiet.

**"Shadow Star: Checkmate Slash."**

As the pain came to consume him, Bates realized that it was over. He was dead. Reaching up with his now unrestricted hands, he broke his own neck with a sinister snap. As he did, his shoulders slackened, his body losing its tension. Grunting softly, he turned his head, which was now effectively on a swivel, around to face his killer.

Gray Star remained where she was, unmoving. Though she wasn't looking directly at him, the power of the Uncanny Sword was still bolstering her senses, allowing her to see what he was doing. With a heaving sigh, Bates hacked up even more blood, splattering the girl's silver hair with thick globs of red. She didn't twitch.

A chuckle escaped the twisted man's lips as he looked down on her from his sickening perch, the red glow from his eyes fading and brightening slowly, randomly. "Well done," he said in a raspy whisper, "You have what it takes to _deserve_ to live. You have...the survival instinct."

Gray Star didn't even turn to look as her target burst into a tangle of black, as his screams were overtaken by the rush of air that swirled around his broken form, as his crimson soul fell slowly until it was inches away from touching the splintery wooden floor. The air was still for a few moments, and she relished in that silence. Then the power of the Uncanny Sword left her, taking her strength with it.

She immediately buckled and collapsed, prompting Sage to transform and help her up. He propped her up against the nearest wall, then proceeded to pull her turtleneck down, check her pulse, and make sure she was breathing. Once that was done, he closed his eyes, focusing in on Gray Star's soul wavelength. Sure enough, there it was. Trembling like a candle in the wind, yes, but still there, reaching out to him for leverage.

"Gray Star," he said carefully, putting a hand on her shoulder, "Gray Star, are you alright?"

One bright blue eye opened, tired but alive. "Yeah...I'm fine." She closed her eye again, still too sore to think about keeping it open for too long. "Did we get him?" she asked somewhat anxiously as she rubbed her temple with her forefingers.

Sage glanced over his shoulder at Jigsaw Bates' soul, that sickly red orb that radiated with an aura of darkness and insanity, that crimson stain still hanging in the air, unbound by gravity. "Yes," he said with a sigh, "We got him."

Gray Star sighed too, letting the tension leave her body. "Good. Take his soul. I won't be long."

With a nod, Sage stood up and walked purposefully over to the madman's soul. With a forceful grab and a tug of his soul wavelength, he absorbed the wretched thing into his palm, watching carefully as the last wisps of red bled into the air. When it was done, he felt a twinge of pain crawl up his arm. His right hand curled into a fist, his nails digging into his bloody palm.

It still hurt. His arm. The one that had been submerged in acid for the longest time. Looking at it, he knew he needed immediate medical attention. The flesh was almost aerated, it had so many holes. The places where the acid hadn't fully eaten through the skin were a gruesome, fleshy rose color. What wasn't pink or red had been burned a chalky black. He could almost smell it, that smell of charred flesh radiating from his injured limb.

There was no time to lose. He had to get himself and his meister out of this horrid place.

"It's time we left, mistress," Sage said intently, looking back at her.

Gray Star grunted as she stood up, still a little shaky from the beating her body, mind, and soul had taken over the course of their mission. Still, she couldn't help but crack a smile. "How many times do I have to tell you? Call me by my name. None of this 'mistress' crap," she said with a wince.

"Noted," he replied bluntly as he faded into light.

He became a ninjato again, flipping though the air in an arc. Gray Star only barely managed to catch him in her left hand. When she did, her right hand was immediately prompted to reach over and grasp the opposite shoulder in order to alleviate the pain.

_Dammit_ , she thought as a bead of sweat trickled down her face, _this is going to hurt in the morning._

With that notion out of the way, she pulled her turteneck up and started to make her way out of the Bates Motel's basement. Luckily for her, the spike traps that had initially hindered her entrance into the room made no effort to hamper her exit. She still kept on her toes, however. As a shinobi, she knew all too well that the best time to strike was when the enemy least expected it. Often, the silence met with a battle's end was just the calm before the storm.

It wasn't until Gray Star left the room that she realized what that meant for her in _this_ situation.

She felt the ground begin to shake, and subconsciously sank into a stance, holding Sage's short blade parallel with her arm. After several seconds, however, she grasped what was happening. Now that Bates was dead, his motel was falling apart, threatening to bury her in rubble.

Not wasting any time, she wordlessly sent out her soul wavelength, asking for one more physical boost. Sage received it rather shakily, but forced it back with resolve, upping the resonance rate until it was high enough to once again activate Speed Star. The instant their souls connected, she disappeared without a sound.

Finding the way out wasn't the hard part; Gray Star had practically torn the basement apart during her Shadow Star rampage. The hard part was avoiding the falling debris and still active traps that did their part to impede her progress. The varying sizes of the rooms and hallways, as well as the nature of the remaining snares, didn't help, either. It took her some time, which in her case was only a few minutes, but she eventually found the spiral staircase that led to the kitchen.

From there, she burst into the foyer, narrowly avoiding a large portion of the roof that had just collapsed. Dashing forward, she used her momentum to vault over the fallen parts of the roofing, dodging bits of tile and crystal as she went along. With the last of her speed, she jumped and kicked the front doors off their hinges with a splintering sound, landing safely in the dusty driveway.

Catching herself, she looked back just in time to see the motel cave in on itself with a deafening crash. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she carefully stood up and surveyed the wreckage. From what she could see through the dust cloud, the Motel Bates was no more. Sighing with relief, she loosened her grip on Sage, who took his human form once again for fear of being dropped.

For several minutes, the two said nothing. They just stood there, letting the cool wind wash over them, letting the stillness of the night envelop them. The moon looked down upon them with his signature smile, a glint in his eye and blood on his chin. Strangely, he wasn't chuckling to himself like normal. Instead, he merely sat there in the deep black sky, silently grinning.

To most, to stare at the celestial body for too long would instill a rather uneasy feeling. To Gray Star, it was a calming thing. She took in a deep breath, letting it out in a slightly haggard sigh as she pulled her turtleneck down for the final time.

"Let's go home, Sage," she said finally.

"How? Speed Star?" Sage questioned. "It's a long way back to Death City. I wouldn't recommend pushing yourself any further."

Gray Star just shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "Yeah, you're right. Let's just walk for a while. I need to...clear my head." Turning on her heel, she began to walk towards the highway.

Sage joined her quickly, staying right by her side. While he kept his eyes on the lush landscape and the road ahead, Gray Star looked up again at the sky, at the stars studding the black blanket of the night with silver, at the ever-crescent moon and the pale yellow light that radiated from it. She smiled.

It was a nice night.

The two hadn't gotten far before they heard another loud crash. Sage immediately turned around, his right arm becoming a kusarigama on instinct. Gray Star turned around too, apparently only interested because of Sage's reaction. Looking back at where they had just come from, the two realized that the motel's neon sign had fallen down, kicking up another large cloud of dust. Sage had half a mind to investigate, but he was halted by Gray Star putting her hand on his shoulder.

He looked back to see her wearing an expression that said, _Don't do it, Sage. It's not worth it._ Willing to comply, but not entirely convinced, he shrugged her off, following after her as she continued down the road. Every once and a while, he would look back to the motel grounds, but there was nothing there but rubble.

* * *

**Omake**

Stifling a cough, the witch Angela Leon stumbled out of the dust cloud she had just created. _Stupid sign,_ she thought, waving the airborne dirt and debris away, _Why did you have to fall now?_ She quickly brushed off anything that could give her position away, trying her best to maintain her invisibility spell. If she was discovered, it would ruin the whole point of her mission. Shinigami-sama had been very specific about not being discovered.

It was her job to evaluate his students' skills, and she couldn't reasonably do that if they knew they were being evaluated. Not in this case, at any rate. Turning around, Angela looked to see if the two students in question had caught onto her. She crossed her fingers, praying that they wouldn't have the energy to double back and see what happened. Thankfully, they didn't. They turned around and left, although Sage didn't look too happy about it.

Angela breathed a sigh of relief. "That was close," she muttered to herself. "Well, time to call Shinigami-sama."

Dropping her invisibility spell, she reached into the mouth of her comical chameleon hat, pulling out a small handheld mirror. Misting it with her breath, she wrote the numerical sequence that would connect her to the Death Room. After a few pings, the mirror clicked, giving her a framed image of Shinigami-sama himself. He stood with his arms clasped behind his back, as if he had been expecting her call.

"Angela," he said with a smile, "It's good to see you."

"Hello, sir," she replied, giving him a smile in return. "Just calling in to give you my report on Gray Star and Sage Kurosawa."

"Ah, I see. Well, then, report. How did they do?"

"They did well, for how difficult the mission was. They captured the evil soul, and brought the whole motel down while they were at it."

"Good. What's their status?" he asked with a sudden hint of concern. "How did they fare in their bout with the target?"

"All things considered, they got out okay, but they're both going to need medical attention. Gray Star is going to need a psych evaluation as well, poor thing."

"Very well. Should I send a medical response team ahead of time?"

Angela shrugged. She knew well that Death Weapon Meister Academy's Medical Response Group was a subdivision of the dispensary, which didn't even count as a subdivision of the academy as a whole. She also knew that its implementation had come with a higher percentage of successful student missions and a lower percentage of student deaths over the years.

That said, a medical response team was only sent if students in the field were seriously injured or incapacitated. Sage was not the type to come to a mission unprepared, and was no doubt bandaging his acid-burned arm as they spoke. Sending a squad of medics would just prove to be an hassle, and a waste of time.

"I don't think that'll be necessary, sir," she said, glancing over to where the two students had been moments ago. "Sage has been hurt worse before, and he always manages to make it back to the academy in one piece anyway. Besides, sending in a response team would make my efforts here pointless."

"Alright, then." The Grim Reaper took a slight pause before continuing. "You said Gray Star would need a psych evaluation. Care to explain why?"

"Of course," Angela said, her expression turning grim. "The two were well on their way to finding Bates when he managed to incapacitate Gray Star with some kind of contraption. While Sage was out looking for the key that could safely remove the device, Bates strung her up with razor wires and tortured her with a series of visual and auditory hallucinations. From what I can tell, most of the pain she felt wasn't real, but it was enough to push her over the edge. She seems fine now, but I wouldn't leave anything to chance."

"You say she went over the edge," Shinigami-sama said carefully.

"Yes, sir."

"What does that mean, exactly?" he asked with a frown.

"When Sage freed her from the device and snapped her out of her trance, Gray Star went a little...crazy. She funneled her fury into the Uncanny Sword, and let the power of Shadow Star take over. After that, all hell broke loose. She ripped through the basement and cut Bates down in no time flat." Angela paused before adding, "You should have seen her go, sir."

"Was she able to control the sword?"

"To an extent...she's still learning, but if tonight's display proves anything, she's definitely been practicing."

"Good. I'm sure her father will be glad to hear that."

Angela visibly twitched at the mention of the warrior god. "Black Star?" Her expression grew deadly serious in an instant, her free hand subconsciously curling into a fist of rage. "Where is he? Is he there?" she asked quickly, practically spitting out the words.

Shinigami-sama instantly realized his mistake. "Oh, whoops," he began frantically, "Look at the time! I have to go. Um, get back to the academy when you're able, and make sure to stay out of sight! Goodbye!" With his hasty farewell came a resounding click, resulting in Angela's hand mirror becoming purely reflective once again. Angela merely stood there, the only sound coming from the crickets hiding in the grassy hills around her. She lowered the mirror as her thoughts scrambled to comprehend what she had heard.

_Black Star...you bastard!_

The chameleon witch found herself shaking with fury. It wasn't fair. She just _had_ to be on mission when the object of her vengeance was no doubt walking around the Grim Reaper's academy like he owned the place, going on and on about how great he is. It was enough to drive _her_ over the edge.

Her anger came to the surface like lava shooting from the mouth of an erupting volcano, manifesting itself as a bright magenta glow that enveloped her body, a physical force that caused the wind to pick up around her. The chromatic light took hold of the air and twirled it around her body, creating a dome of swirling fury. It toyed with the grass and played havoc with the dirt, even managing to pick up debris from the wreckage of the motel.

After several minutes of letting her magic run wild, Angela felt her magical aura fade as she got ahold of herself. The dust storm died down, a few broken boards and a half a door dropping down to the ground with dull thumps. The chameleon witch sighed, taking a moment to slam her palm to her forehead.

This wasn't the time to be mad, she reasoned. She could save _that_ for when she finally cornered that cheating rat and kicked him right in the balls. Warrior god or not, she wasn't about to let him get away before she gave him a piece of her mind. He'd pay for what he did, there was no doubt about that. With a slight start, she realized that she was just wasting time. She had to get back before he could slip away. Looking back at the motel's grisly remains, Angela called out for her familiars.

"Karma, Espio, we're leaving!" Sure enough, not too long after she said their names, two adult chameleons suddenly became visible on the ground beside her. "There you guys are," she said without missing a step. "Hop on. We need to get back to the academy. Like, yesterday."

The larger of the two chameleons, who was currently a deep purple, responded by disappearing in a cloud of powdery gray smoke. Seconds later, he reappeared on her shoulder, almost as if he had been dropped there by some invisible hand. The other chameleon, who was a nice shade of blue, simply leapt into the air and landed daintily on Angela's other shoulder with all the elegance of a professional ice skater. Nodding with approval, Angela stretched out her hand, willing her broom to come forth with a rather rhythmic chant—

"Kamah, kamah, kamah, kamah, kamah, kami-leon!" With a puff of cartoonish pink smoke, the broom appeared, defying gravity as it hung in the air beside her. Angela checked to make sure Karma and Espio were holding on tight before she jumped on the broom and took off. When she reached a good height, she willed herself to turn invisible with another chant.

The crescent moon watched with a slight hint of curiosity as the chameleon witch disappeared from sight, leaving the dead din of the night's sounds to swallow the hills once more. Blood had long since begun to seep down through his teeth, and although it was only a trickle, it was abundantly clear to anyone looking up that someone had perished under his gaze. Luckily for them, it was an evil soul. Angela, still invisible, felt a smile creep across her face.

She forgot how much she loved her job sometimes.


	3. Working Vacation

The afternoon sun struggled to keep from falling asleep as he watched the day wind down from his perch above San Francisco, waiting for his shift to end. His eyes drooped, his jaw hung open, and drool pooled in the corner of his mouth, all clear indicators that it had been a long day for him. Still, even in his drowsy state, the weary celestial body set the sky on fire as he dipped toward the horizon line, painting the world below with splashes of deep red and orange. His rays reached the water, too, giving the waves that lapped against the piers and bridge supports a shimmering golden edge.

Most of the city's inhabitants merely sat and watched the spectacle, while others took videos and pictures with their smartphones. While seeing the sun wasn't incredibly rare in the bay area, it never hurt to take a photo or two when the town wasn't being drowned in the dull grayness that came from overcast weather. This was especially apropos when the sunset was making art with the clouds, as it was doing right then.

It was at this time of day that the heartbeat of the bay area began to slow. While some prepared for bed or for a night out on the town, others went on their final walks and bike rides, taking the time to enjoy the chill of the crisp air sweeping in from the sea before they retreated to their homes.

Representing the latter group, a young couple and their daughter Anna were walking back to their home after an early dinner at a family diner, traversing one of the many steep streets San Francisco was famous for. Anna, still full of energy despite how late in the day it was, skipped merrily along, her vision darting around at the various sights and sounds of her town preparing for its night life. Her parents did their best to keep one eye on her and one eye on the people around them, the way parents do when they want to keep their child safe.

Just then, Anna heard a sound, like an airplane going by overhead. It wasn't very loud, but it was enough to prompt her to stop skipping and stare up at the sky. There she found a large line that cut through the vast expanse of deep orange, a streak of white weaving through the patchwork of magenta clouds that lay closer to the sun's more vibrant tangerine glow.

She stood there a moment, encapsulated by its majesty. Then wonder gave way to young-minded curiosity as Anna turned back to her parents.

"Mommy, mommy," she said with a giggle, tugging on her mother's pastel blue shirt, "What's making that big white line in the sky?"

Coming to a halt, her mother looked up with a hint of intrigue, spotting the object of her daughter's eye almost immediately. Looking down at her, she quickly replied, "It's probably just a jet trail, dear."

"This close to the ground?" Anna's father said, an unconvinced look on his face. "I doubt it."

His wife turned and gave him a slightly scathing glare. "Well, Clark," she said somewhat exasperatedly, "What else could it be?"

* * *

At the head of that particular sky trail was a young woman riding a skateboard turned hoverboard, a thick white line of exhaust pluming from the jets hidden in its downturned wheels. The cords from her headphones threatened to weave themselves into her long jet black hair as she flew onward towards her destination, her speed doing enough to make that catastrophe a very real possibility. It was fortunate that her earbuds were like earplugs, otherwise she would have lost them to G-force a long time ago.

She skirted the clouds that came into her view, effortlessly spinning the board beneath her feet as she did. Every once and a while, she let her speed take her through the wayward wisps of purple and pink, tearing through them like fluffy tissue paper.

Her music, which was some kind of heavy metal rap, pounded in her ears, the volume turned up to the maximum. The orange light that burst forth from the sleepless sun glinted off her aviator sunglasses, her eyes' only protection from the high-speed winds, the vapor from the clouds, and the near-blinding sunset.

The girl couldn't help but smile. This was her favorite part of her job. Getting away from the academy and her father was always pleasurable, but it was flying to her targets that really gave her joy. Riding on air, surfing above city streets and around tall buildings, screwing with the occasional airplane or farmer; it made her soul score all the more worth it. Not only that, but it was a great way to see the world.

Death City, being her home and her father's place of business, was almost boring to her now. The city she had run and skated through as a child was more or less a prison to escape from, and the only way to escape was by accepting missions from the academy. New places, new faces; that was what she wanted to see. Especially when the face in question belonged to someone who was next in line for a good thrashing.

Looking down, she suddenly noticed that her destination was just below her. Planting her foot and pushing the back of the board down, she pulled herself to a stop. She was hovering high above a small rectangle of green with slate gray pathways snaking through it that joined to form a large circle toward the middle. The rectangle's closest corner was cut off by a street, the triangular remains hardly visible from her staggering height.

Still, she could see the patchwork of gray and black buildings surrounding it, the people milling through the place like ants, even the little umbrellas and quilts and things people had taken there. It was Washington Square Park, and it was exactly where she needed to be.

Or rather, it was close enough to where she needed to be.

She breathed out a sigh. It was about time. Taking one last look at the gorgeous view of the bay area she had, the girl popped out her earbuds and hit the pause button on her phone. As she put her headphones away, the girl found herself chuckling, despite herself. It never got old, this part. It seemed that the only thing that came close to being as much fun as flying...was falling.

Adrenaline coursed through her body as she let the board's jets go out, her heart racing faster as her form dropped sharply out of the marmalade sky and down toward the city below. The wind pulled her hair straight up as she plummeted, her black denim jacket billowing up along with it.

She decided to make her descent more stylish with a series of aerial flip tricks and spins on her board, the finishing touch being a one-handed handstand grab that she held until she was only a few meters from becoming paste.

At the last second, she turned the jets back on, keeping a tight grip on her board as she came to hover just above a concrete walkway that bled out into the sidewalk that encompassed the park. With a mighty push, she launched herself into a stylish backflip, landing neatly on solid ground as her board fell to the path with a clack.

Obviously satisfied with her work, she took in a deep breath and let out a content sigh. _That was awesome_ , she thought to herself. She quickly called the board back to her, dark lightning flowing from her fingertips as it disappeared into a strange glyph that appeared on her palm.

Looking around, she noticed that, for the most part, people had begun clearing out of the park. It seemed as though there weren't any festivals or movie showings going on, and everyone was looking to get home before the sun fell below the horizon line.

A few individuals were lucky enough to take a video of her rather impressive landing with their phones. She knew that it wouldn't be long before she ended up on DeathTube. It was enough to put another grin on her face. This business was just too much fun sometimes. It also made for great entertainment, and she often found that she enjoyed the little things.

Still, she did have actual work to do. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she looked down to the silver twin pistols she had tucked into her jean pockets less than an hour ago on the academy's front steps.

They were obviously asleep, seeing as how they hadn't opted to jump out of her jeans and become human again. Normally they would be up and stretching their arms and legs, shaking off the dull ache that came with staying in weapon form for long periods of time and complaining about how late they had stayed up the night previous. But they weren't. They were still out for the count.

That gave her the bright idea to have a little fun with them.

Pulling them out of their 'holsters', she nonchalantly flung them into the air behind her, stifling a chuckle with her hand as she heard them clatter to the ground with simultaneous yelps of pain.

"What the hell, Kid?" the pistols yelled out in unison, "That hurt, ya know?" They then proceeded to burst into bright light, painting the concrete and the surrounding foliage a hot pink. When the light faded, a pair of twin teenagers were there in place of the pistols, sitting on their haunches and rubbing the backs of their heads.

The two weren't identical twins, not by any stretch of the imagination. One being male and the other being female, _identical_ wasn't exactly something they could fudge on a resume. Looking at them, though, one could tell that they were related. From their similar height and hairstyles to their identical chalky blue eyes, it was quite clear that these twin pistols were twin siblings.

That, and their behavior often coincided. Case in point, at that very moment the twins were sharing an evil eye glare at their meister, their rage dulled only slightly by the sharp disorientation that came with a rude awakening.

"Oh, I know it hurt," Kid said, glancing slyly over her shoulder at them, "That was the point."

"Low blow, Boss," the female twin said as she got to her feet, "Low blow."

"Oh, come on," Kid snickered, "It was funny!"

"I hate to break it to you, Boss, but you have a real twisted sense of humor," the male twin replied dryly.

"Yeah, _real_ twisted," his sister added.

Kid shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever. Let's just kill this guy already," she said, pointing her thumb at the building across the street behind her.

The building in question was actually quite beautiful, a gorgeous white brick cathedral that looked slightly out of place in a city like San Francisco. Before its ornate doors lay a series of overlapping arches held up by spiral pillars, the pillars separated from the arches by a small outcropping. Riding the line between the arches and the pillars sat four statuettes: a winged lion, an angel, an eagle, and a winged calf from left to right, all of them holding a book or a stone tablet.

In the archway above the door sat a bust of Jesus, His arms open to welcome all who entered. Just above Him was a row of small arched windows, above which sat a large circular window with a gothic wheel frame. Two towering spires rose from the front corners of the building, one of which bore an antiquated clock face. It was a church, more specifically Saints Peter and Paul Church.

It was also the place their target was said to be hiding.

Kid strode forward with purpose, prompting her weapons to follow. She crossed the street brazenly, completely ignoring the car that screeched to a halt and honked at her, her gaze fixed firmly on the doors of the church. The twins followed just behind, walking in step with their meister while glancing uneasily at the driver she had just cut off. As the trio reached the entrance, the world around them became slightly darker.

Night was beginning to take over the bay area, and the moon was trying desperately to chase the sun away with waves of shadow studded with stars. As blue and black mixed with red and orange to create a mud-colored skyscape, an icy breeze drifted by, charged with salt from the sea.

Kid took off her sunglasses, hooking one of the stems into her front jacket pocket. She then activated her soul perception, looking through the door and into the building. She saw only one soul, an evil soul, a ball of wispy crimson inside the walls of the church. A smile crept across her face. This was going to be fun.

"Alright, you two," she said, shooting them both a confident glance, "Weapon forms, let's go."

The two nodded at each other before bursting into light, spinning into the air and coming back down as two slick silver handguns. Kid caught them and twirled them on the tips of her fingers, dropping them by her side as she mentally steeled herself for what she was going to do next. She took one last calm and collected breath before kicking the doors of the church wide open, the sound from the impact echoing throughout the structure.

"Knock, knock, motherfucker!" Kid yelled.

Her voice rang out but eventually died out, silence winning out in the vastness of the church's interior. Despite the size of the room, there was actually very little free floor space. The central chamber was framed by high archways that were punctuated by pillars, row after row of wooden pews leading to a large altar with an ornate display toward the back of the room. The display itself was very much like a miniature temple, carved from white stone and adorned with various spires, arches, and statuettes.

In the high vaulted dome above the mock temple was a mural of Jesus, holding a bible in His hand. The central chamber was framed on either side by walkways, the walls lined with art and sacred treasures. Lamps hung from every archway and on every pillar, filling the church with a warm golden glow. The floor was blanketed in a velvety red carpet with a single white stripe running down the central aisle, eventually halting at the foot of the altar steps.

And there, down the aisle from Kid and the twins, standing with his arms folded behind his back before the altar, was a raven-haired man in a dark pinstripe suit. He didn't seem even remotely troubled by the disturbance. He didn't even twitch. He merely stood there, continuing to look straight up at the mural of Jesus above the temple display, just as he had been.

Kid decided to make the first move. She strode forward with her wrists crossed, keeping the twins' barrels trained on the back of the man's head. As she moved, the doors behind her swung back into place with a thump and a click, locking her in. The twins couldn't help but twinge; they knew they were trapped. Kid, on the other hand, couldn't care less.

After all, she knew that she wasn't trapped in there with him. He was trapped in there with _her_.

"Hey!" she barked. "Pencil neck! Yeah, you! I'm talking to you!"

The man lowered his head slowly, keeping his arms folded behind his back. When he finally turned to face Kid, he looked at her with a calm, almost uncaring expression. Kid stopped moving, keeping a reasonable distance. Her golden eyes narrowed on him, on his soul, judging it, looking for a fluctuation. There was none. His gaze was cold and distant, his gray eyes merely washing over her, uninterested.

"Noisy insect," he said with a bitter dullness to his tone, "Do you know who you're talking to?"

"Yeah, I do," she said quickly. "You're the Zodiac Killer."

"And...who are you?" he pondered, his visage that of a statue.

Kid almost laughed out loud. "What? Are you kidding?" she scoffed. "My name is Death the Kid, jackass. And I'm here to take your soul."

The killer's soft stare quickly became a hardened edge, his gunmetal gray irises bearing down on her like the barrels of a sawed-off shotgun. Kid eyed him right back, her golden gaze boring a hole between his eyes.

"So," she began, "There's two ways we can do this: the easy way or the hard way. Easy way is, you surrender, and I kill you and take your soul. Hard way is, you try and fight back and ultimately lose, then I kill you and take your soul. Either way, I live, you die, and my friends and I get to enjoy a night on the town. What's it going to be?" she asked with a grin, "The easy way? Or the hard way?"

The man didn't answer. He merely stood there, suddenly silent. The hard way, then.

"Alright. Lock it in, you two," Kid said, eyeing the pistols in her grip, "It's time for soul resonance."

"Now?" the male twin said apprehensively.

"But the fight hasn't even started yet!" said the female twin.

"This isn't up for discussion," Kid snapped, putting the two by her side. "We can play with him all we like, but it always comes down to soul resonance. You know that. I say let's just skip the foreplay and fuck him right now!"

Inside their conjoined soul pocket, the twins exchanged uneasy glances. They understood their meister's logic. Or at least, they thought they understood it. They couldn't think of a reason why _not_ to do it, but then again, they weren't exactly idea people. In the end, they decided to put their faith in Kid, just as they had done so many times before, so many evil souls ago.

"You got it, Boss," they said in unison.

The connection snapped into existence with a surge of raw power, linking not only the twins' souls together, but linking Kid's souls to theirs. It shot through their bodies, Kid's soul granting the twins incredible power, while they in turn forced it back upon Kid. Repeating this motion, they made their resonance stronger, amplifying it until it reached a familiar peak.

Black lightning bled from Kid's soul and into the physical plane, appearing as skulls with hollow white eyes. The air began to swirl around her, the deathly apparitions composed of her soul wavelength meandering through their preordained circular path. Her body began to rise slowly into the air, her soul expanding to fill the negative space around her. The black lightning then began to coalesce, forming sinister-looking black needles that jutted out from her back in a V formation.

Kid could feel her soul wavelength being drawn into the twins, the needles on her back tingling with sensation as their power began to grow. The twins glowed with a bright rosy light as they began to take a new shape in her hands, their new forms encompassing the entirety of her forearm. As they transformed, arcs of black lightning danced alongside them, reaching out to accommodate for something much bigger than two small handguns.

When the light shattered, the twins were a pair of large silver cannons bearing large stylized skulls on their topmost plating. The transformation finally complete, Kid dropped back down onto the carpeting, letting the twins' new forms fall onto the pews beside her. She sat in a crouch, her eyes firmly fixed on her target, the wooden pews groaning from the staggering weight of either twin. With a flourish, she brought the beastly cannons up to bear on the Zodiac Killer, their massive barrels pointed at the man's rotten soul.

**"Execution Mode: On."**

"Resonance Rate stable," said the male twin, "Noise at 0.8%"

"Black Needle soul wavelength charge complete," his sister added.

"Feedback in five seconds," the male twin confirmed.

"...three..."

"...two..."

"...one."

"Firing now!" they shouted together.

Kid's eyes narrowed as she focused her soul wavelength, locking onto her target with uncompromising precision. Like a machine, she calculated the distance the rounds had to travel and accounted for any movement, synchronizing her wavelength with what she saw. Her target, meanwhile, made no move to avoid what was coming next. He simply held his ground, seemingly unconcerned by Kid's new cannons.

Then she pulled the trigger, and the whole world shook.

**"Death Cannon."**

The black lightning around Kid burst out in a maelstrom as the twins let loose two enormous blasts comprised of her soul wavelength. Crossing the distance between Kid and the Zodiac Killer in an instant, the rose-colored rounds hit and exploded into a deathly cloud of smoke that swallowed the altar and the first two rows of pews.

Black plumes shaped like skulls jumped out from the aftermath, shifting through the cloud of gray that billowed out from the foot of the altar like ghosts. Kid let her shoulders slack as she felt the resonance link falter, letting the twins fall to her sides as they reverted back to their normal pistol forms. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she blew her bangs out of her eyes. It was over. A grin formed on her face as she began to walk toward the death cloud, her pride taking control of her tongue.

"...and that takes care of that!" Kid said smugly. "What did I tell you guys, huh? That was easy as...fuck."

She stopped dead in her tracks, her bravado faltering instantly. There, hanging in the haze, were two pairs of glowing red eyes. Before she or the twins could make any sense of them, something waved the smoke away, a pulse of energy, a surge of raw power that revealed a rather unwelcome surprise. Standing at the foot of the altar was none other than the Zodiac Killer, alive and all the more menacing.

Kid didn't immediately understand what happened. Neither did the twins. All any of them knew was that their target was far from dead, which indicated that he was more powerful than they had originally thought. To make matters worse, that power came in the form of a new appendage, an appendage that bore the second pair of eyes Kid and the twins had seen leering out at them like hot pokers from the Death Cannon's fallout.

What had once been the killer's perfectly normal right arm was now a crimson Chinese dragon, its scales blending into his suit sleeve seamlessly. It had no limbs of its own, no wings or arms or claws; just a jaw full of razor sharp teeth, a snout spewing ashy smoke, two gnarled oak brown horns, and a pair of fiery red eyes. Though it was only essentially the head and body of the legendary fire-breathing reptile, it was still the head and body of a legendary fire-breathing reptile, and it was very much alive. Its whiskers waved about with the wind, its tongue tasting the air as it eagerly eyed its prey.

**"Year of the Dragon."**

"Kid?" the male twin started nervously, "Is that a..."

"...dragon?" his sister finished.

"So _that's_ why they call him the Zodiac Killer," Kid mused. "Huh." She couldn't help but sound disappointed. Her plan had failed, after all. It seemed as though she was going to have to put more effort into this fight than she had originally intended. "Fine," she said flatly, "I'll play along."

"Boss?" the twins asked in unison.

"Chill. I've got this on the motherfuckin' level." Kid twirled them between her fingers before contorting her body into a very odd stance, angling her arms, pulling her wrists back, and bending her knees in just such a way. To anyone else, it was a pose worthy of the circus. To her, it was—

**"Death God Taijutsu: Guilty Stance."**

The air finally cleared as Kid and the Zodiac Killer stared each other down. Not a word was spoken. The twins clung to each other tightly within their soul pocket, chilled to the bone with fear. What they were afraid of, they weren't sure. But they were afraid, and that was all that mattered. Kid, meanwhile, was actually kind of pissed.

After ninety missions spanning the globe, she had become used to traveling. It was very much like a working vacation, except her work was hunting down evil souls and her free time was extremely limited. At first, the whole 'hunting down evil souls' part of her job description was a perk. As of late, it had become a tedious inconvenience.

Kid used to love hunting down the bad guys and spending some time away from the academy. Now it just seemed like the universe was making her work harder for her vacation time, and that did not please her.

In her eyes, the Zodiac Killer was just an obstacle to be overcome, the period at the end of a sentence that grew longer by the minute. His death marked the beginning of a well-needed and well-deserved couple of nights of rest and relaxation in the city by the bay. Was that really too much to ask? Apparently, the universe seemed to think so, because her 'obstacle' decided to take the first step in their little dance of death.

And that first step was one _hell_ of a doozy.

Kid was just about to dash ahead and start the fight anew when the killer put his dragon arm up, bringing its toothy maw up to bear on her. She almost snickered at that, limiting herself to just cracking a smile instead. Logic dictated that if he were trying to set her on fire from where he was standing, he was going to have a rough time of it.

The picture in Kid's head was that of a flamethrower, a living flamethrower that probably didn't have enough firepower to roast her from that far away. The picture she actually saw, however, was eerily familiar to her signature technique, the technique she had intended to blow her target off the map with, the technique that had somehow managed to disappear into a puff of smoke without so much as harming a hair on his head.

That's when it came to her.

"Oh, shit..."

"Kid?" the female twin began tentatively.

"What is he doing?" the male twin ended slowly.

"He caught the blasts," Kid realized with a hint of surprise in her tone, _"He caught them and now he's firing them back!"_

The twins looked up at her from their soul pocket with jaws dropped and eyes wide open. _"Seriously!?"_ they cried simultaneously. Meanwhile, smoke began to pour from the dragon's lower lip like a waterfall, twisting columns of gray rising from the beast's nostrils as it opened its cavernous mouth. Kid knew what was coming next. The killer kept his gaze fixed on her, his countenance as cold and as distant as it had been when the fight had begun.

**"Dragon Cannon."**

The words had barely left his lips when a blazing ball of energy not unlike a blast from the Death Cannon shot from the dragon's open maw like some hellish firework, setting the pews alight with blistering flames as it careened toward Kid. Had she stood there a second longer, it would have blasted her into the bay. Luckily, she managed to jump over it, the fire licking at her jacket and jeans as she did. Landing safely with only a few minor singes, she turned her head just in time to see the church doors blown off their hinges and sent flying into the park across the street, eliciting screams of terror from passersby.

She had just enough time to look back and avoid the second fireball, which flew through the now unblocked doorway and into the open. As the ensuing explosion made the ground beneath her tremble, Kid couldn't help but twinge. It may have been her target that had just blown up that guy's car, but the academy mission desk would no doubt tack the blame onto _her_ for not preventing the collateral damage. All the rage in the world couldn't be compared to the swarm of obscenities that was bouncing around in her brain at that moment.

It was bad enough that the bastard had blown the doors off a church and set some guy's car on fire, but she wasn't about to let her reputation or her vacation time get ruined by some guy with a dragon for an arm. She was so mad she could scream. She felt as though she could tear her target's head off with her fiery words alone, and in all reality, there was little doubt that she could.

In the end, she decided she'd do it with bullets instead. It would probably be a lot easier that way.

Reverting back to her Guilty Stance with a look of pure hatred on her face, Kid loosed volley after volley of rounds from the twins, taking every free moment between position changes to take a step or two toward her prey. Her prey, in response, switched to a more defensive strategy, using his dragon arm's fiery breath as a shield to stop her bullets. It was surprisingly effective...for a time. But as Kid got closer, his firewall proved to be less effective. What had been able to make her soul wavelength shots fizzle out in seconds was suddenly as capable a defense as a wall of rice paper. Ignoring the flames, her bullets continued to fly until they finally hit their mark.

Kid felt a vengeful grin tug at the sides of her face. It was so rewarding, watching him squirm in the face of her unrelenting punishment. But he wasn't one to just take that kind of punishment. Not for long, anyway.

Moving swiftly, the Zodiac Killer widened the gap between him and Kid by jumping up the steps and onto the altar. Kid, now at the first row of pews, stood ready to riddle him with more rounds. That was when the fire assaulting the fine wood of the pews began to dissipate, prompting Kid to hold her trigger fingers and her pose, keeping her aim on her target.

Her grin faltered and fell. Something was happening, and she could feel it. There was a shift of power as the flames died out completely, columns of gray specked with red hot embers rising up from the remains. If Kid hadn't been paying attention, she wouldn't have noticed that subtle fluctuation in the killer's soul wavelength, the telltale sign that something was changing.

Luckily, the change itself wasn't subtle at all.

The killer's ferocious but defeated dragon arm began to slowly fade away, an envelope of ashy steam overtaking it as it seemingly evaporated into thin air. Kid stood with her wrists crossed, keeping the twins trained on the center of his forehead. Within seconds, his dragon arm was gone, replaced by a katana with a red cloth wrap handle and a gold lotus guard that rested comfortably in his grip.

He sank into a wide stance, the back of his blade arcing over his head with the tip pointed at Kid. When he was finally set, he put his free hand forward, a sign that he was ready for her. To him, it was a gesture of respect. To her, it was him officially signing his own death warrant.

Kid let loose a torrent of gunfire at him, rapidly changing her stance and orientation in order to hit him from every angle possible. He, meanwhile, just stayed where he was, deflecting the rounds that came too close with the flat of his blade.

"Damn it!" Kid shouted exasperatedly, "Stop blocking my attacks so I can kill you, you fucking prick!"

The twins exchanged a set of uneasy glances inside their shared soul pocket. They hadn't seen their meister this...frustrated...since her last talk with her father. It had taken her almost a week to calm herself down after that, and she had put three students in the dispensary in the process. The very memory of her when she was like that sent a shiver down both their spines. If there was one part of Kid that they didn't like to see, it was that raging bull called anger that took refuge in her heart, a force that was too often let loose on those around her, including them.

A clash of metal and a small twinge of pain jolted the two of them out of their thoughts and back into reality. Realizing they had somehow managed to zone out amidst the shooting and the swearing, the twins now found themselves much closer to their foe than they had been moments ago.

They almost jumped out of their soul pocket. The Zodiac Killer was practically right on top of them, his blade scraping sparks off of their silver barrels. His dead eyes were staring straight into Kid's, Kid's only response being to stare back with as much ferocity as she could muster.

"Oh, shit," they said together. "Kid!"

With a bump of his blade, the killer pushed Kid back and into the pew behind her. He tried to rush forward with an angular swipe at her chest, but Kid managed to block it by flipping her left gun in her hand, looping her pinkie through the trigger guard and using the slide as a shield.

Using his sword as a leverage point, Kid lifted herself off the ground and into a devastating spin kick, aiming the tip of her foot at the side of his head. The killer only barely managed to block with his left arm, displacing the force of the kick. Kid, already thinking ahead, was going to jump off of his arm and pop a few rounds at him from the air, but the killer had something else in mind.

Bringing his blade back up, he used his free hand to brace against the flat and push Kid away, immediately shifting back into his defensive stance. Kid, meanwhile, landed before the altar steps with a somewhat disappointed look on her face.

"Damn it," she said flatly. He was smart. Smarter than she would have liked to admit. First he used her own signature technique against her, then he blocked her attacks, then he read her movements like it was nothing. Sure, she had scored a few hits in between, but this guy wasn't giving her a lot of openings to work with.

It seemed like he was in total control of the spacing of the fight. She had only closed the gap between them once, but he had gone and widened that gap again, and by a considerable margin. Kid grit her teeth with cold determination. As it stood, she wasn't about to let him push her away again.

Suddenly, the Zodiac Killer put his sword up and charged forward, aiming the tip of the blade at her throat. Kid responded with a wall of gunfire, trying her best to target his arms and legs in order to slow his advance. Only a few of those rounds came close to hitting their mark before he deflected them, his blade ringing with each blocked shot. With a frown, Kid shifted into her Guilty Stance once more. If he wanted an up-close and personal fight, that was exactly what he was going to get.

Except that wasn't what he wanted. Not even remotely.

As soon as he had started, he stopped. The air rushed forward in his place as he halted just out of striking range, holding the sword so that the blade was parallel with his body. Kid couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. It seemed like poor execution, to charge ahead only to stop so short. Then she realized that he hadn't stopped short at all.

Kid's eyes widened as the soft ring of metal striking metal met her ears. The blade of the killer's sword had dropped down, the blade edge knocking against the guard that it was hinged to. What lay in the space where the blade had once sat was the barrel of some kind of weapon, built into the handle. Kid ducked just in time to avoid the stream of blistering flames that shot from the sword, rolling out of the way and back behind the left-hand rows of pews.

Jumping up to retaliate, Kid was greeted with an inferno, the wooden benches once again under assault from the Zodiac Killer's fiery onslaught. Kid ducked back down.

_Of course the sword shoots fire,_ she mused bitterly. _Why the fuck wouldn't it?_ While the twins were busy freaking out about the flames, Kid tried to figure out a way around this new development. Looking around, she didn't see anything that could help her. The pews in front of her were on fire, and the ones behind her would probably join in too, if she let them. There wasn't anything hanging from the ceiling she could jump to, either. Her only option was to hide in the archways that girded the pews, but even that didn't sound like a good idea.

Kid blew her bangs out of her eyes. _Fuck it,_ she thought with a smirk, _I'll just jump it._

Leaping out from behind cover and into a backflip, Kid unleashed an aerial barrage at the Zodiac Killer, who was still in the process of burning everything to the ground. A few rounds actually managed to find purchase in the man's chest as he scrambled to snap his sword back together, the rest being deflected thereafter.

With the flamethrower put away, the flames it had created fizzled out and died, leaving behind charred wood and blackened cushioning in their place. Kid landed safely on the backrest of the fifth row of the left-hand pews, balancing on the tips of her toes. Pausing only for a moment, she leapt back into the fight, leading with another barrage.

The time, however, the evil soul was prepared for her attack. He simply rolled out of the way of the blasts at the last second, shooting Kid a look of contempt as he made his way to the right side of the altar steps, closer to the pews.

As Kid landed opposite him, she felt another subtle shift in his wavelength. It moved through the air like a gentle breeze, unconcerned with her or anything else as it glided away. Another change in weaponry. Kid wasn't surprised. He seemed to have a habit of changing weapons just after taking a hit.

It happened just as Kid knew it would, the sword in his grip melting into a cloud of red-hot ash. When the wisps of gray finally cleared away, a large semi-automatic shotgun rested in the evil soul's right hand, the tip of its barrel nearly touching the ground. Kid decided not to wait and see if this new weapon shot fire as well, diving in head-first with a full-on charge. Sliding in on her knees, she lay down a wave of fire intended to overwhelm her target. Sadly, her target wasn't as overwhelmed as she would have liked.

He merely jumped over her, pointing the barrel of his gun at Kid's head as she passed underneath him. Kid narrowly avoided the ensuing blasts by contorting her body into a sort of break-dancing move, almost losing both of her legs to the spread shot. As she whirled around, she noticed that the pellets being fired were red-hot, burning through the air like miniature comets.

_Great,_ she thought. _Dragon's breath rounds._

Landing close by, the killer charged forward, thrusting his weapon forward as if to impale her with the barrel. Getting to her feet, Kid inverted her grip on her left pistol and used the flat of the slide to smack his gun aside, thrusting ahead with her right pistol. Just as she pulled the trigger, however, the Zodiac Killer brought his shotgun up to bear and smacked _her_ gun aside.

The two went back and forth, both of them trying desperately to line up a kill shot whilst preventing the other from lining up a kill shot of their own. Sparks flew as the two danced and ducked and drew and fired but never scored a hit. The sounds of clanging steel and rambunctious gunfire echoed through the church, making it sound more like a war zone than a place of worship.

The duel lasted several minutes, but it came to a swift and decisive end when the Zodiac Killer tried to swat Kid aside with a wide swing of his shotgun. Fully prepared, Kid ducked under his attack and curled into a back flip kick that caught him square in the jaw. The blow sent him sailing into the air, and while Kid landed lightly on her feet, he landed flat on his back. He didn't waste any time getting back up, but Kid was on his case before he could completely recover.

There was only time enough for him to take two shots before she was right on top of him. Opening with a quick shot to his chest, Kid began to go to work, unleashing a rapid string of powerful attacks. If she wasn't unloading rounds into his vitals at point-blank rage, she was using the slides of her pistols to beat him senseless, switching stances faster than most people could wrap their head around. When it came time to end the onslaught, Kid sealed the deal with a flying knee to the killer's face that sent him sprawling to the ground. Unable to recover, he collapsed at the foot of the altar, thoroughly overwhelmed by her relentless assault.

Kid was pleased. The twins were ecstatic. Finally, Kid felt like she was in control. However, it was a little too soon for celebrations; their target wasn't one to give up so easily.

The man in question almost immediately got to his feet, seemingly unconcerned with his injuries or even the state of the battle. His expression was still as cold and as grim as it had always been, nothing in his features suggesting that he was hurt or even tired. All of the contempt and rage he might have been feeling at that moment was hidden behind a mask, an unchanging, uninterested, uncaring mask. Kid could feel his dead eyes washing over her, bored of her, tired of the very sight of her. Needless to say, it wasn't a good feeling.

Her body tensed as she felt another change in his wavelength, and this time it was anything but subtle. Kid figured that if she had been using her soul sensing abilities when the Zodiac Killer had first revealed his true power, this was probably something close to what she would have felt. The difference was unreal.

What had been a fiery and volatile wavelength for the longest time was suddenly becoming a wavelength of pure power and strength, something that didn't feel like it should come from a toothpick like him. It was a brutal shift, one that threatened to knock the very wind out of her. Was he really _that_ powerful?

After recovering from the split-second shock, Kid realized that the dragon's breath shotgun was disappearing into a cloud of smoke, just as its predecessors had done before it. That could mean only one thing.

_Oh, Christ,_ she thought. _What is it going to be this time?_

As his current weapon faded, something new appeared, no doubt some sort of replacement. It was a bright white cloud, drifting down from the church ceiling to grace the evil soul's head. Kid couldn't honestly tell what kind of weapon was hidden within the confines of its puffy exterior; it was too thick to see through.

The only thing visible through the fluff was a pair of round yellow eyes, looking almost like headlights in a fog. Kid couldn't help but worry just a little. After all, what could be worse than the Year of the Dragon? The Year of the Snake? The Year of the Tiger? She wasn't sure she wanted to know. Suddenly, the cloud left its perch, dropping down and enveloping the entirety of the serial killer's cranium. The twins exchanged looks of concern as Kid raised an eyebrow. Things just kept getting weirder with this guy, it seemed.

Little did she know that it was about to get weirder.

For the 'weapon' that came to rest on the Zodiac Killer's head was, in fact, another head. A goat's head, to be exact. Like the dragon that had come before it, the goat head was more than just a mask or costume. It was a living, breathing entity, and if looks could kill, Kid would be dead.

Of course, the thing's comical appearance was more than enough to make her die of laughter.

Kid almost dropped the twins for favor of rolling around on the floor and laughing out loud. She managed to subdue that urge, but it didn't stop her from laughing like crazy. It was just so funny! To see someone dressed in so fine a suit, and then to look up and see that that someone was actually a goat? It was almost too much to bear. Kid was laughing so hard she had to crouch down to keep her abs from aching.

The twins, however, weren't amused. Not in the slightest.

Most of it had to do with what they had seen with the Year of the Dragon. The monster that had come to take the place of the serial killer's right arm had almost burned them and their meister to a crisp. Just because this one was a goat didn't necessarily mean that it was any less dangerous, even if it was slightly goofy looking.

The more they thought about it, the more their imaginations took hold of them, giving them ghastly visions of their deaths at the hands of a goat man. Death by chomping, death by trampling, death by headbutt; as far as they were concerned, this wasn't something to laugh about. This was something to be afraid of.

"Um, Kid?" the female twin started, anxiously eyeing her meister from her and her brother's soul pocket.

"I don't like the looks of this," the male twin finished, his eyes fixed on the Zodiac Killer's new head piece.

"Oh, what are you guys so afraid of?" Kid asked between chuckles.

_A lot of things,_ thought the twins.

Kid let out another boisterous laugh. "Leave it to you two to be scared of some guy with a goat for a— _oof!"_ That was all she had time to say before the Zodiac Killer rushed in and rammed her right in the gut, sending her and the twins flying into one of the archway pillars with a resounding smash.

**"Year of the Goat."**

As the words echoed in her brain, Kid realized that the goat-headed Zodiac Killer wasn't as ridiculous as she once thought. Ridiculously _powerful_ , perhaps, but not ridiculous. In fact, he looked just as sinister as his dragon-armed counterpart had been, maybe even more sinister. After giving her head a good shake and waving the dust away, Kid jumped out of the wreckage of the archway pillar with a sudden air of determination, ready to take his stupid goat head off.

That was when she noticed that he wasn't where he had been but a moment ago.

"What the fuck?" Kid thought aloud, her eyes darting all over the expanse of the church's interior, "Where the hell did he go?"

Not a moment after the words had left her lips, she heard a small clicking sound. Looking down, she found an explosive device, a claymore mine, planted at her feet. And it was no mystery who had put it there, either, not if the goat head imprinted on the front was any indication.

"I knew this goat guy was bad news," the male twin said just as the mine exploded.

The knock-back from the explosion was severe, but not as severe as the thrust kick the Zodiac Killer delivered to Kid's spine before she could hit the wall behind her. The force of the impact was brutal; if Kid were an average human, she likely would have been paralyzed from the waist down. Luckily, Kid wasn't the average human. She was much more, mostly due to her lineage. But she wasn't thinking about that as her body slammed against the church floor.

No, she was thinking about how she was going to kill the prick that had kicked her in the spine in the first place.

Of course, Kid wasn't given an opportunity to do that right away. She picked herself off of the floor only to meet the business end of a shield with a goat's head mounted on the front. The shield let out a soft 'baa' as it collided with Kid's head and sent her flying off toward the opposite end of the church.

She only barely managed to right herself and scramble to her feet, sliding just short of the archway. Standing up straight, Kid decided she was through getting kicked around. Focusing hard, she locked onto the evil soul, finding him in the clearing between the aisle and the altar, standing there, watching her with those cold gray eyes.

"I'm gonna make you bleed," she said under her breath, her voice dripping with hatred. Ready to act and determined to help, the twins stood shoulder-to-shoulder in their soul pocket, arms crossed and faces set with looks of determination.

With a yell, Kid dashed forward and after her target, jumping into the air and unleashing a storm of bullets. The Zodiac Killer merely held his shield up in response, taking the brunt of the force with little effort. When he put his shield down, however, he was surprised to see that Kid was already on top of him. Before he could react, Kid twisted herself into a flying spin kick that caved his face in. Recovering quickly, he whirled around and threw the shield at Kid, but Kid simply slid under it.

As she stood up, she saw the evil soul place one of his goat claymores at his feet, the business end facing her. A knowing smile crept across her face. Just before it went off, she leaped high into the air, the ensuing shrapnel digging into the floor where she had been a second earlier.

Kid tried her best to riddle her foe with rounds as she passed overhead, but he had already called his shield back into existence, carefully following her arc through the air and blocking every last bullet. Upon landing, she was surprised to see the shield to fade for favor of the goat head. Another 'baa' rang out in the church as the killer charged forward, threatening to send her flying with a running headbutt.

With a grunt of effort, Kid took the hit head-on. The ensuing shockwave enough to crack the marble of the altar they were standing on. As Kid pushed back against the Zodiac Killer, a small trickle of blood worked its way down from the wound the blow had left on her forehead, dripping off of her chin and onto the shattered marble patchwork below. Unwilling to back down, Kid continued to lock horns with the killer, her distinct lack of horns doing nothing to dissuade her.

"How do you like me now, cocksucker?" she shouted as their foreheads clashed against each other, sparks and blood flying in their wake. "How do you like me now?!"

The two continued their struggle for several minutes, neither moving the other back an inch. Knowing that they had reached a sort of impasse, Kid decided to end their strange confrontation with a bang. She quickly inverted her grip on the twins, looping her pinkies onto their triggers once more. With a devilish grin, she shoved the twins' barrels into the bottom of the goat head's jaw and pulled their triggers, sending the man-beast into the air with a booming echo.

Kid knew almost immediately that she could close in for the kill right before he came back down to earth. Flipping the twins around the right way, she surged ahead, keeping her eyes trained on him as he flipped through the air. As she ran, she planned her moves in advance, planned how she would bring this fight to an end, planned how she would finally kill the rat bastard and take his rotten soul.

One thing was for sure; she wasn't about to let him land on his feet and recover. She was going to end this, one way or another.

When the moment came, when the killer's feet were but an inch from striking the altar, Kid was there, ready to take him out. She switched her stance so that both guns were parallel, aligning them so that the left clip was looking at the ground and the right clip was pointed at the ceiling. From there, she proceeded to shove the twins' barrels into the Zodiac Killer's chest and pull their triggers, starting a long chain of attacks that would ultimately leave her target choking on a superfluous amount of his own blood.

Starting with the initial twin shot to the chest, Kid pushed the killer back with several point-blank shots to the head, chest, and shoulders, each one splattering the altar with thick splotches of red. Whirling around like some kind of demented ballerina, Kid smacked him with the barrel of her right pistol, burying it in the flesh of his cheek. When it was nice and deep, she pulled the trigger, pulling her hand down and back to her side as the impact sent the evil soul spinning.

When he turned to face her again, he was met with a sharp snap kick to the face, which was followed by a side kick to the solar plexus that sent him tumbling towards the archway behind him. Staggering to his feet, he was surprised to see that Kid was already in the air. She proceeded to execute two powerful knee strikes, one after the other, both of them hitting him square in the face. Kid landed before the killer could find his balance, twisting her body into a leg sweep that took his legs out from under him.

Before he could even hit the ground, Kid was standing above him, bringing her right leg up high above her head. Her eyes glazed over with pure rage, she brought her heel down with a force incomprehensible, slamming the evil soul into the ground. The marble beneath him shattered upon impact, creating a small crater around him.

Kid, with her left foot now on his chest, stomped him further into the altar marble, widening the crater. When the dust finally settled, the Zodiac Killer looked to his aggressor with weary, bloody eyes, his expression softer now that he had been beaten to a pulp. Kid, on the other hand, looked down upon him with only contempt, her eyes slits of white against the shadows of her face and hair.

She watched as her target coughed up blood, a good amount of it staining the left leg of her jeans. She watched as he hacked and wheezed and panted, his breath escaping him. It normally would have brought her some satisfaction, seeing him in this pathetic state, but she didn't care about that right then. She was more focused on getting the job done. She looked down and, noticing that his vision was fading, pressed down on his chest with her foot, crushing his ribs and causing him to hack up more blood.

When he did finally look up at her again, he found that he was staring down the barrel of one of her pistols, veritably staring death in the face. He didn't seem to mind, however. Deep down, he probably knew that death would have come for him eventually, sooner if not later. That's why he didn't say anything when Kid asked him if he had any last words. Why he didn't struggle when she pulled the trigger. Why he didn't scream when the bullet bore a hole in his brain.

Kid stepped off of his corpse as it ripped itself into ribbons of black. They twirled around his soul before fading into nothing, leaving the red orb to hang in the air above the aftermath of Kid's uncompromising aggression. With a sigh and a shake of her head, she tossed the twins into the air behind her. As they fell, they shifted into their human forms, landing safely on the edge of the crater. Kid took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"It's over," she said mostly to herself. "Thank Christ." Looking over to the Zodiac Killer's soul, she reached out and grabbed it, turning to face her weapons. "Alright," she said, holding the soul out for them to see, "We have to decide who gets this."

"Um, I think Jenny got the last one," the male twin said, gesturing to his sister with his thumb.

"Good. Then she gets this one, too."

"Really?" Jenny asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," Kid grinned, "You know my dad hates it when one of you has more souls than the other. And I've made it my personal mission to piss him off as much as possible, so eat up," she said as she lazily tossed it to her, "Think of it as a late lunch."

Upon catching the crimson orb, Jenny cradled it in her hands for a moment. She then squeezed it, testing the soul's toughness before she popped it into her mouth. She swirled it around before swallowing it whole, grinning as it landed in her stomach. "Ah, good stuff," she said happily. "Sorry, Lenny," she said to her twin, "You'll just have to get the next one!"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, returning his sister's smile. "Next time."

"Hey!" Kid interrupted. "This isn't social hour! This is _food_ hour! Let's get the hell out of here so we can have some dinner and enjoy our vacation time already," she said impatiently.

"You got it, boss!" the twins said together, giving their meister a mirrored salute.

As they made their way out of the church, Kid couldn't help but notice the damage they had done in their fight with the Zodiac Killer. The altar marble bore a large crater and was splintered in several other places, the last archway pillar on the left was shattered, the first few rows of pews were burnt and charred, and the front doors had been blown out into the park across the street. That, and there was also the car that had been parked directly in front of the church. Smoke still plumed from the wreckage of the automobile, making the night sky hazy with gray.

Thankfully, no one had been killed in the explosion, but the owner of the car was currently curled up into a ball next to the smoldering remains of his SUV, crying tears of pure sorrow and regret.

"My car...my beautiful car!" the man whimpered.

Kid snorted. _What a woos,_ she thought to herself. _He got off easy compared to the shit I just went through._

That was when Kid realized just how much trouble she was in. Between the damage to the church and to the guy's car, she was probably in for a few extracurricular assignments, extracurricular assignments that would get her no closer to the two hundred souls she needed to make the twins into Death Weapons. Things like extra readings and cleaning up the library and tutoring soul studies for N.O.T. students.

Things that her father knew she absolutely _hated_ to do.

_God dammit,_ Kid thought, slamming her palm to her forehead. A hefty jolt of pain then reminded her that she had butted heads with the Zodiac Killer's goat form towards the end of the fight, a collision that had created a rather large bruise right where she had just hit herself.

"Ow, fuck..."

* * *

**Omake**

Shinigami-sama breathed out a long sigh as he lay on his sofa in the center of the Death Room's raised dais. Like the coffee table and the armchair before it, he had summoned the sofa into existence for his guest, a guest that was uncharacteristically late. Knowing that it was well past nine 'o clock at night, the Grim Reaper was starting to grow tired of waiting.

He had sent Liz and Patty back to Gallows Manor immediately after the school day had come to a close, saying that he had to spend the night in the Death Room due to the gargantuan amount of paperwork that he had to do.

It was a believable excuse; he'd used it several times before, and every time he had, it had been the truth. But, for once in his life, he actually had no paperwork to do. The day's paperwork had already been done; it sat on his desk in two symmetrical piles, complete. If he didn't have to send his weapons home, he wouldn't have. Their company was certainly better than none at all. But with a sigh, he waved the thought away.

After all, his guest was the last person on the planet Patty wanted to see, and he had to respect her wishes.

Still, that didn't make his day any better. While the school day had been rather eventful, office hours hadn't, and no one in their right mind stayed after office hours. No one but him, at any rate. By five thirty, he was the only one left at the academy. He was suddenly stuck with all the time in the world, and no idea what to do with it. He didn't have any paperwork to do. He had no one to talk to. He couldn't even watch any of his students out on mission, mostly because the only student mission that had been scheduled wasn't happening until midnight that night.

There was only one student out on mission right then, and someone else was handling her assessment. Skateboarding wasn't an option, either. Having explored every variation of the Death Room, he was convinced that he had seen it all. Even talking to Tezca was out of the question, as the disfigured demon weapon had been strangely absent from his place in the Death Room's mirror. Shinigami-sama let out another miserable sigh.

It was official. He was bored.

Sitting up, he decided to have some tea. With a puff of cartoonish white smoke, the kettle and cups appeared on the table next to his sofa. Knowing the tea was already brewed and ready to go, the Grim Reaper poured himself a cup of the amber liquid and sat back on the sofa, his eyes wandering back up toward the Death Room's never-ending sky.

There was no point in trying to count the clouds, he reminded himself. He had done it three times already. But as he sat there drinking his tea, the moon watching him with a grin through a high window, he was tempted to do it again. Anything was better than nothing.

He was just about to start counting when he heard the Death Room's door open and close, signaling the arrival of his guest. Hearing his footsteps as he approached the dais, Shinigami-sama quickly stood up and put his teacup down, turning toward the guillotine-lined pathway with his arms folded behind his back.

It took several minutes, but his guest finally arrived. Standing under the last torii arch with a greasy paper bag in the crook of his arm and a half-eaten taco in his hand was none other than the warrior god, Black Star.

"'Sup?" he asked lazily, taking a bite out of the taco as he walked onto the dais.

Shingami-sama decided not to answer that question, countering with one of his own. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"No. Does it matter?"

"It's nine twenty-two."

"So?"

"So, you're late."

"Late?" Black Star cocked his head in confusion.

"You said you'd be here at six, just after office hours. It's almost nine thirty now. You're... _late_."

"So?"

"So, I'm annoyed!" Shingami-sama spat out angrily. "I've been sitting here doing nothing for the past six hours waiting for you to arrive! For someone as fast as you are, you sure took your sweet time getting here! Why the _hell_ are you so late!?"

Black Star just shrugged. "I stopped for food," he said flatly as he took another bite out of his taco.

Shinigami-sama let his anger burn out with a stomp of his foot before letting out a long sigh. He should've known it would have been something as trivial as that. "God dammit, Black Star," he said as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefingers, "Why must you make things so difficult for me?"

"Aw, come on! I'm not that bad," the warrior god said with a smirk, playfully elbowing his boss in the arm. "Here, have a taco. It'll make you feel better!" He held the half-eaten taco out in front of the Grim Reaper's face with a grin, waving it around as if to hypnotize him with its flavor.

Shinigami-sama simply dismissed his offer with a wave of his hand. "No thanks," he said sternly.

"Eh, suit yourself," Black Star said as he devoured the rest of the taco. Scraps of beef, cheese, and lettuce went everywhere as the warrior god ripped into it, tearing the thing apart with his teeth like some wild animal. The vicious display definitely gave more merit to the idea that Black Star was more beast than man. Certain that he would never be able to look at Mexican food the same way ever again, the Grim Reaper brushed the remnants of Black Star's taco off of his suit and cleared his throat.

"Black Star," he began, "Lateness aside, I'm glad you made it here. How's Tsubaki doing?"

"She's doing fine," Black Star replied as he flopped onto the sofa. "But she misses her man. Once we're done with our mission in Warsaw, we're gonna stop by her place in Japan so she can see her husband. After that, we'll come back here so she can say 'hi' to her kid."

"That's nice," Shinigami-sama said, bringing his cup of tea over to the armchair and sitting down. "With all the missions you two go on these days, it'll be nice to take a break and spend some time with family, even if it's not _your_ family."

Black Star's eyes narrowed sharply at that remark, his gaze burning a hole in the middle of the Grim Reaper's forehead.

"Sorry," Shinigami-sama added quickly, realizing how insensitive his comment was. "I...shouldn't have said that."

Black Star just sighed, the darkness in his expression leaving just as quickly as it had come. "Nah, don't worry about it. I know what you mean. He and Tsubaki have got a real good thing going on. Patty and I can't even hold a fucking candle to 'em."

"Black Star..." Shinigami-sama trailed off uselessly.

"It's fine. What's done is done. It's in the past," Black Star folded his arms and leaned back on the sofa. "And me? I live in the motherfucking present."

Silence built a wall between them as they sat there in the Death Room, Black Star eyeing the ceiling while Shinigami-sama was left to fidget in his armchair. It took a couple more sips of tea before Shinigami-sama was ready to break the silence.

"What do you say we do what we actually came here to do, Black Star?" he said, standing and putting his cup on its saucer.

Black Star curled his back and sprung off of the sofa in response, landing on the dais without a sound. "Yeah, sure. Let's see how much ass she's kicking," he said as he began to stride purposefully toward the Death Room's mirror.

Shinigami-sama held up a cautioning hand, stopping Black Star in his tracks. "Sorry, but we won't be seeing much of anything this time."

"Huh?" was the warrior god's only reply.

"Your daughter figured out that I've been watching her missions through my mirror," he explained, gesturing to the object in question with a wave of his arm. "When I asked her to complete this assignment, she told me that she wouldn't do it unless I promised her I wouldn't spy on her." He raised an eyebrow. "So I did. Of course, I couldn't very well go about assessing her abilities without seeing her in action, so I asked Angela to do a little...reconnaissance for us."

"You sent Angela?" Black Star scoffed. "No wonder you were so open to letting me come here tonight."

"Yes. She has a funny way of being able to track you down when you're within a fifty-mile radius of her. At any rate, Gray Star and Sage should be wrapping up their assignment soon. And, if you hide behind my desk, you'll be able to hear Angela's report on how they did."

"Right on," Black Star grinned. "How difficult is the assignment?"

"Extremely difficult," Shinigami-sama said shortly. "Gray Star may be well-trained, but this mission is far beyond what I would expect a one-star meister to be capable of handling. I can guarantee you she won't get out of this unharmed."

"Eh," Black Star shrugged, "A little harm does the body good."

The Grim Reaper could only sigh. "Sometimes I wonder how you ever became a parent," he deadpanned.

"Hey, speaking of parenting, how's Kid doin'?" Black Star asked.

"Angel? Oh, she's...doing well," Shinigami said, nervously pulling at his collar. "She just completed a mission in San Francisco. Similar level of difficulty, but more tuned to her style of combat. She was given three days to hunt down the—"

"She broke everything again, didn't she?" Black Star interrupted.

Shinigami-sama's head immediately fell in shame. "Yeah, she did."

The warrior god merely let out a hearty chuckle in response. "'Atta girl! Encore, encore!" he said, laughing and clapping his hands. "Encore! Encore!"

"No," Shinigami-sama said, clasping his hands over Black Star's. "No encore."

"Killjoy," Black Star smirked.

Shinigami-sama was about to open his mouth in reply when the Death Room's mirror began to ring. "Ah," he said as he walked toward it. "That must be Angela. Looks like Gray Star and Sage have finished their assignment." He relinquished his grip on his friend's hands and gestured to his desk. "If you would, Black Star."

"Yeah. Like a fuckin' shadow, bro," Black Star said as disappeared under the desk, holding a grim look of determination as long as he could before letting it fall for favor of a childish grin. He loved hide-and-seek.

Rolling his eyes, Shinigami-sama folded his arms behind his back and nodded to the mirror, which answered the incoming call with an audible click. Sure enough, Angela immediately appeared in the black void of the glass, her face framed by the small handheld mirror she was using to phone in.

"Angela," he greeted with a warm smile, "It's good to see you."

Black Star tried his best to get comfortable as the two talked, careful not to make a sound, lest he alert the chameleon witch to his presence. He listened closely to their conversation, his ear to the wood of Shinigami-sama's desk. When he heard about what Gray Star and Sage had been through at the hands of their target, he could only grimace.

But when Angela mentioned Gray Star's using the Uncanny Sword and Shadow Star, pride surged through his body like a lightning bolt. _That's my girl,_ he thought. Of course, that was when Shinigami-sama had to let slip that he was there, leading Angela to start asking all the wrong questions.

"Oh, whoops," he said with a frantic wave of his arms, "Look at the time! I have to go. Um, get back to the academy when you're able, and make sure to stay out of sight! Goodbye!" He immediately hung up, Angela quickly being replaced by himself in the mirror.

"Smooth recovery there, jackass," Black Star said casually as he sat between the massive piles of paperwork on the Grim Reaper's desk.

Shinigami-sama could only sigh, not sure what he could say in retort. He eventually settled on, "Sorry. That was my fault." When he noticed where Black Star was sitting, he added, "Get off of my desk."

The warrior god hopped off of the desktop and onto the dais, giving his arms and legs a stretch. "So, what now?" he asked.

"Now?" Shinigami-sama's expression turned to one of contemplation as he sank into his armchair. "Now would be a good time for you to leave, my friend. The way she flies, it won't take Angela long to get here, and I don't think you want to be around when she does."

"Yeah. Hey, you want the rest of this?" Black Star asked, holding up the bag of Mexican food he had brought in.

"No thank you," Shinigami-sama said warily.

"Eh, suit yourself." Reaching into the bag, Black Star pulled out a burrito and ate the whole thing, not even bothering to remove the aluminum foil wrapping before doing so.

The Grim Reaper couldn't even bear to watch.

"Oh!" Black Star said around bits of beans and tinfoil, "Before I go. Be sure to tell Maka and Soul I said 'what's up?', would ya?"

"Will do," Shinigami-sama replied, not bothering to look back until he was certain that Black Star was finished tearing his burrito to shreds.

Black Star tucked his bag back into the crook of his arm. "Well, see ya," he said with a grin. Giving the Grim Reaper a mock salute, he took off at an impossible speed, a fine trail of dust following him out of the room.

As the Death Room door opened and closed, Shinigami-sama breathed a sigh of relief, folding his head back over the top of his armchair. "Glad that's over," he thought aloud. Looking up to the endless expanse of cloud and sky above him, he realized that his night wasn't even close to being over. He still had Angela to deal with, not to mention the missions that were going down in Death Vegas around midnight.

For now, he figured it would be more prudent to find something useful to do with his time as he waited for Angela and midnight to arrive. _But what to do?_ The thought lingered in his brain for several seconds. Finding no outlet, it decided to look through his eyes, but the only thing there were clouds.

_Well,_ Shinigami-sama thought with a weary smile, _Better get to counting._


	4. Slow Morning

It was a peaceful mid-October morning in Death City, and Specter Evans was still fast asleep, his body only partially covered by his mangled bed sheets. Despite being in a very uncomfortable-looking position, he was blissfully unconscious, as was evidenced by the steady stream of drool that was spilling out of his mouth and onto his pillowcase.

The morning sun did its best to try and wake him up, but Specter's room was a fortress impenetrable, the heavy curtains hanging in the windows enough to keep the light of day at bay. Only when the alarm on his phone began to ring did Specter stir, pressing his face farther into his pillow in an attempt to hide from the noise.

"Shit," he mumbled groggily.

After several seconds of incessant nagging, the alarm's harsh beeping finally drove him to turn over and face it, his eyelids still clamped shut. Stretching out an arm, he tried desperately to silence his phone with a few blind swipes of his finger, unwilling to put in more effort than was necessary.

After several misses, he quickly grabbed his phone and pulled it toward him, bearing the noise just long enough to unlock it and shut off the alarm. Rolling over, he let the phone fall out of his hand and onto the carpet below with a dull thump. He tried to shut his eyes tighter, hoping that it would be enough to keep him from actually waking up, but it was no use.

He was up.

Tossing his covers aside, Specter sat up on the edge of his bed, yawning a miserable, tired yawn. He knew full well that he couldn't fall back asleep now. After all, if the alarm said it was time to get up, he had to get up. Not getting up would defeat the purpose of setting the alarm.

He took a moment to rub the sleep out of his eyes before getting to his feet, picking his phone up off the floor and placing it on his nightstand as he lumbered over to his dresser. Breathing a sigh, he crouched down, opened up the lowest drawer and rifled through its contents before finally settling on a pale blue short-sleeved shirt. Slinging it over his shoulder, he exited the room and made an immediate right, moving past his sister's room and into the bathroom at the end of the hall.

He made sure to lock the door behind him before he tossed his shirt onto the counter and began to undress, last night's jeans and boxers falling to the floor. Walking into the shower, he turned it on and stepped right back out again, knowing full well that the water would be like ice. He silently prayed that the water would heat up faster than it usually did, but of course, it took forever, leaving Specter alone to examine himself in the bathroom mirror.

Moving until he was almost touching the counter, he eyed his reflection warily, rotating his head so he could see his face from different angles. His fingers followed his jawline up and down, his eyes inspecting every detail of his face for no reason in particular.

He looked to his bright white hair, which was currently standing up in all sorts of weird places, and ran his fingers through it, wincing as some of the strands caught and were pulled taut. Then he looked to his mouth, pulling his lips back with his index fingers and checking his unusually sharp teeth. When he found that they were just as off-white as they usually were, Specter took a few steps back and gave his entire body a once-over.

Finding that everything was in order, he walked back into the shower.

Not that he thought he was going to find anything out of order. It was just a force of habit.

After testing the water and finding that it was finally to his liking, he stepped inside and let the heat consume him. Specter emerged from the shower less than ten minutes later, a thick cloud of steam preceding his exit. He grabbed a fresh towel from the cabinet under the sink and used it to pat himself dry before tossing it haphazardly over the shower door behind him.

As he put his jeans on, Specter noticed that the mirror was misted over thanks to the steam, his wiry sixteen-year-old form barely recognizable in the haze. Realizing that trying to make himself look presentable when the mirror was fogged was a pointless endeavor, he opened the window next to the medicine cabinet and left the bathroom to air out.

The mid-morning chill rushed to greet Specter as he stepped out into the hall, its touch enough to make the water still clinging to his exposed upper body and feet turn to ice. He shivered slightly before shrugging it off, heading out past the sitting room and into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

Reaching down into the cabinet between the fridge and the stove, he fumbled around until his hand found the handle of the frying pan he was looking for. Carefully navigating it out past the other cookware, he set it out on the stove before moving to the fridge. It didn't take him long to find what he needed: a few eggs, a couple of slices of Swiss cheese, some leftover ham, a stick of butter, and a package of fresh spinach.

Piling his ingredients next to the stove, he went to work. By the time his sister wandered her way into the kitchen, Specter was already filling their apartment with the smell of omelet, too focused on his masterpiece to notice her presence.

That was why he didn't immediately register what was happening when his very own pale blue short-sleeved shirt draped itself over his head, effectively blinding him.

"Hey, doofus," Nina said flatly, "You left your shirt in the bathroom."

"Thanks," Specter replied, his voice muffled by the fabric of the shirt. "Could you kindly get it off my head so I can continue making your breakfast?"

Specter's sight returned to him in an instant as his sister forcefully yanked the shirt from his head. A wave of static electricity scrambled across his scalp, causing his still-damp hair to stand on end.

He turned to give his sister a meaningful glare, only to find that she had already moved to the sitting room, his shirt lying in a crumpled heap atop the diner-style counter top island that served as their dinner table. Letting out a heavy sigh, he did his best to pat his hair down before putting the finishing touches on his sister's omelet.

"Hey, you get any sleep last night?" he asked over his shoulder.

"What's sleep?" Nina shouted halfheartedly from the couch.

Her question was enough of an answer. Specter rolled his eyes as he reached for a plate to put the first omelet on. The way things were going, it was shaping up to be a long Thursday.

* * *

"Soul resonance may seem easy to define on the surface, and in some ways it is. However, back in the late sixteen-hundreds, theories on soul resonance were all but revolutionary. Heretical, even. As we saw yesterday, Bunyan looked to the philosophical and theological aspects of soul resonance, tying it to God and the journey that one must undertake to bond with Him or anyone else. Galileo, on the other hand, analyzed soul resonance from a more scientific angle, eventually creating the now globally-recognized soular principle known as the Orbital Unity Principle. Based on his work in astronomy, this principle gave rise to the idea that..."

Specter was having a _really_ hard time paying attention. Soul Studies wasn't exactly his favorite subject, and the class was going by at a painfully slow pace, just as Homeroom had before it. No one seemed particularly interested in Professor Ford's lecture; some pretended to pay attention, and a select few actually _did_ pay attention, but a vast majority of Class Half Moon couldn't care less about fifteenth-century soul theory.

Nina was undoubtedly the prime example of this fact, considering she was snoring peacefully in her sleep with her face buried in the crook of her arm. Specter couldn't really blame her, either. To say he wasn't a fan of Soul Studies would be the understatement of the century.

The spiral-bound notebook he had dedicated to the class was practically empty. Nina's _was_ empty. It wasn't that hard to figure out. It didn't help that that morning's dose of Soul Studies was especially dull. Everyone in Class Half Moon was feeling the burn of boredom, even the studious types.

Professor Ford didn't seem to be concerned by his class' clear lack of enthusiasm, however. He continued on with his merciless tirade of knowledge, pausing only every so often to make sure at least one person in the class was paying attention before turning back to the blackboard. It was enough to drive someone up the wall.

If Kid had been there, Specter mused, she probably would have jumped out the nearest window by now. She had last time.

Having given up trying to write notes as fast as Professor Ford could speak nearly a week into his first year at the DWMA, Specter once again settled into his familiar strategy of simply listening to the lecture, tuning out now and again to take mental images of what was on the board.

It was a strategy that worked well for this class, which was essentially a combination of every subject he thought was boring in middle and elementary school. He could pay just enough attention to not go insane while still getting enough of the important stuff to do decently on pop quizzes and exams. This didn't mean it was a perfect strategy, however. It had one major weakness in that Specter's mind had a tendency to wander.

Oftentimes, Specter found himself staring at any given object in a room instead of paying attention, unable to look away or refocus. Whether it was a symptom of the early morning blues or some kind of mental misfire, it was an obstacle that was seldom overcome quickly. It didn't help that whenever he zoned out like this, he usually missed out on something important. It was a good thing Specter had a friend in this class who actually paid attention. He would be screwed otherwise.

That's when Specter realized that he had been staring at the lip of the trash can next to Professor Ford's desk instead of paying attention for several minutes.

Again.

Dammit.

It was at times like these when Specter began to question the idea behind putting the hardest, most multi-disciplinary class at the beginning of the day. He shook his head vigorously, then took a moment to widen his eyes manually with his fingers and thumbs in order to regain his focus. It didn't help much.

He let out a sigh. Perhaps Nina had the right idea, sleeping through this snore-fest of a class. He looked to his textbook, which was sitting unopened on his desk space. Its silky Death City-branded book cover tempted him with its softness, all but asking him to take a nap of his own.

He was just about to put his head down when the bell rang.

Professor Ford immediately stopped writing whatever he was writing on the board and whirled to face his students. "Alright, class, that's all we have time for. I expect you to read pages thirty-four to forty by tomorrow. And don't forget the study questions! Dismissed." With that, he turned right around and went back to scribbling on the chalkboard.

Specter sighed. Study questions. The bane of his existence. He didn't look forward to doing those. While everyone else rushed out of their seats and down the amphitheater steps in order to get out of Class Half Moon, Specter took his time. He slid his textbook off his desk and into the waiting mouth of his faded red vinyl backpack, pushing his notebook in after it.

After that came the hardest task of all: waking his sister. While he was tempted to simply smack her upside the head, he figured it would be more acceptable to simply shake her awake. He was just about to start when he noticed that his friend, the one who actually paid attention in this class and thus helped him survive it, was waiting patiently for him at the bottom of the closest set of steps.

Maximilian Ford, son of Professor Ford himself. He and Max had been friends since they were children, which surprised a majority of the DWMA staff, especially their respective parents. Yet, as time passed, everyone seemed to let it slide. Max had jet black hair like his father, and even boasted two elongated hair spikes on either sides of his head, the genetic remnants of his father's so-called Pillars.

Unlike his father, Max let his hair grow out, and while it was spiky, the pomade he used made sure his mane was far from untamed. He wore normal rounded rectangle glasses, a white shirt with a black tie, black dress pants with a black belt, and long-toed black shoes.

Max's weapon partner was nowhere to be seen. He had likely wandered off somewhere to brood, as he often did when the bell for break rang. This left Max in Class Half Moon with his father, Specter, and Nina. Specter gestured toward his still-snoozing sister, and Max responded by simply smiling and shaking his head.

"I take it she didn't get a lot of sleep last night?" he asked, careful to be quiet for Nina's sake.

"More like none," Specter replied. When Max shot him a confused look, he added, "Anime marathon."

"Ah," Max said, nodding in understanding. "Something over the top and violent, I assume?"

"You assume correctly. I'm pretty sure I heard bones snapping through the wall as I crawled into bed last night."

"Nice," Max grinned. "Any particular reason she thought that choosing entertainment over sleep was a good idea?"

"Nina's in-crowd girlfriends have been shoving lovey-dovey boy toy animes down her throat lately."

"Yikes," Max said, visibly shuddering. "That would take a toll on anyone. If I had to sit through that crap, I'd probably dedicate a night to washing my brain with bleach, too. Do you know what she was watching?"

Specter shrugged. "No clue. I'd ask her, but she's out like a light."

Right on cue, Nina let out a long yawn before nestling her forehead down into her elbow once again. Specter just rolled his eyes. Max stifled a chuckle before giving Specter a look that said 'you know what to do'. Specter opened his mouth to object, but quickly stopped himself, letting out a defeated sigh instead. He was going to get yelled at for this, but he knew that it was the only way he could wake Nina up, especially after an all-night anime marathon.

After checking to make sure Professor Ford wasn't looking his way, Specter quickly brought his leg up and pushed Nina out of her seat with his foot.

She hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, and after hissing in pain, quickly got to her feet and asked, "What the hell is your problem!?"

"We gotta go to break, and you were asleep," Specter said flatly.

"Asshole," she growled. "You know I didn't get any sleep last night."

Specter simply put his hands in the air. "Not my problem. You need to take more naps. That, or get new friends with better taste in shows. Take your pick."

Nina snorted at her brother and rubbed the spot on her side where he had kicked her, but didn't do anything else. Specter eyed her warily, but didn't waver. To most, it would seem that the battle between the two siblings had just begun, but anyone who knew anything about Specter and Nina knew that this behavior was indicative of what was effectively a draw. Max, for instance, knew instantly that their bout had come to an end.

"Well, glad to see that worked itself out," he said from the bottom of the steps. "Where should we go for break? It's a beautiful day out."

Specter grinned. "I know a cool spot."

"Do we really have to go out in the sun? I just woke up," Nina groaned.

"I'm sure your eyes will adjust," Specter scoffed. "Let's just go. Break doesn't last forever."

* * *

A hearty mid-October breeze washed over the trio as they made themselves comfortable astride or beside a banister on one of DWMA's high balconies, one with a beautiful view of Death City. Specter sat directly on the banister, facing the sprawling desert metropolis. Max stood next to him, arms braced on the banister. Nina, meanwhile, lay down behind the banister, trying her best to hide from the sun as he laughed his way overhead.

After several minutes spent enjoying the view, Specter said, "I hate study questions."

"I know you do," Max said with a chuckle. "They're tedious and boring, which, to you, is unacceptable."

Specter shook his head. "I don't know how you can stand those things, man, 'cause I sure as hell can't. They're just so..."

"Pointless?" Max finished.

"Yeah. That."

"I like to think of them as practice."

"I like to think of them as pointless...because they are."

Max sighed. "You know, you can't keep dodging study questions forever. I heard dad say that he's going to start taking them for a grade if exam scores don't improve soon."

"If he does take them for a grade, I'll cry."

"Because you never do them?"

"Because I do well on exams _without_ them. I've always said it, man. I work smart, not hard. Skipping study questions is just par for the course."

"That's because you're okay with a B."

"Damn right, I am."

Specter continued to look out at Death City while Max took a moment to look at the clouds drifting by overhead. It really was a beautiful day out. Not too hot, with a nice breeze. It was almost enough to make one forget about their troubles. Almost.

"You know, you could probably get an A if you tried harder," Max said after a while..

Specter whirled to face his long-time friend with a cross look on his face, clearly offended. "I get A's." Then he thought about what he had just said and added, "...occasionally."

"If by 'occasionally' you mean 'only once or twice', maybe," a new voice said from behind them.

Specter and Max turned around to find a girl their age standing in the doorway. She was tall, taller than the two of them, with long bright blonde hair, chalky blue eyes, and fair skin. She wore a red turtleneck with the right sleeve rolled up and a pair of blue jeans tucked into a pair of black knee-high boots.

But perhaps her most notable article of clothing was her hat, a good old-fashioned leather cowboy hat with a bright blue band and a silver death skull pinned to the front. The all-too-familiar insignia shone brightly in the sun, as did the buckle on her belt. There was no mistaking who she was, not if the size of the holster hanging from her right hip was any indication.

"Allie," Max greeted with a grin. "You certainly didn't waste any time getting your licks in. Where's Flint?"

"He's probably nappin' in some dark corner somewhere."

"Yeah, that sounds like Flint," Specter conceded. "Where's your sister?"

"Gray Star? She's probably doin' the same thing, minus the nappin'."

"Yeah, that sounds like Gray Star."

Max sighed and shook his head. "I still find it hard to believe that you two are sisters."

"The fact that I'm not a Star Clan member is what throws people off," Allie said with a shrug. "The fact that we're nothing alike doesn't help, either."

"So," Specter began, "What brings you all the way up here?"

"You, actually." Allie jabbed her finger at Specter for emphasis. "I was talkin' to some of my buddies in Class Crescent, and we got to ponderin' about who could beat who in a fight among the first-years."

"Better than talking about whatever-century soul theory," Specter muttered.

"Fifteenth," Max corrected.

"Shut up, no one cares," Specter hissed.

"I do!" Max hissed back.

"Boys!" Allie barked, snapping her fingers to get their attention. She quickly let a sigh out through her nose before continuing. "Anyway, we got to talkin', and someone bet actual money that Spec here could beat me in a fight. I disagreed," she grinned.

Specter grinned right back at her. "Of course you did."

"Since none of us could rightly figure out who between you and me would win, we decided to have everyone put their money where their mouth is."

"Meaning...?" Max prodded.

"...meaning we made a bet! There's money on both of us, and at least twenty students want to watch us duke it out, weapons and all."

"Isn't putting money on a student duel illegal or something?" Specter asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, but it _is_ against school policy," Max said sharply.

"I'm pretty sure you're the only student in the entire academy who gives a shit about school policy, Maxie," Allie said with a laugh. "And besides, as long as the duel is on campus and approved by an instructor, what people do with their money isn't the DWMA's business. Right?"

Max let out a sigh before reluctantly admitting, "Not unless someone reports it." He turned to Specter. "What do you make of all this?"

Specter took a moment to consider the facts: what he was being asked to participate in, what he was going up against, and most importantly, what the point was.

"I dig it," he said after a while. "But, uh...what do I get if I win?"

"Half of the money in the pot. And braggin' rights," Allie said, not missing a beat.

Specter turned to Max, giving him a look and a gesture that simply said 'dude, don't ruin this for me'.

Seeing this, Max reluctantly relented, saying, "Alright. I suppose I don't have to say anything. Not as long as a DWMA instructor approves the duel and the students betting money are smart about it."

"What happens to them isn't my problem. It's what happens between me and Spec that counts," Allie said with a wink. "And as far as instructors go, I already have someone in mind."

"Oh? And who would that be?" Max asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Mr. Rung."

"Smart," Specter said with a nod of approval. "He loves watching fights almost as much as he loves being in them. I wouldn't be surprised if he put some money into the pot himself."

"So, are you in?" Allie said, an eager glint in her eyes.

"Hell yeah. Let's do it."

"Spit shake on it?" Allie immediately spat into her palm and held her hand out expectantly.

Specter couldn't help but grin, the definition of his jagged teeth clearly visible. "Is there any other way?" He then proceeded to spit into his own hand before clasping Allie's in a firm, slimy handshake.

Max averted his eyes. "That's just...wrong."

_"That's it!"_ Nina shouted suddenly from the floor. "I can't take it anymore! Could you guys _be_ any louder?! Christ! I'm trying to sleep down here, God dammit! Just shut up so I can get some sleep before the—"

Of course, it was right at that moment that the bell rang.

* * *

**Omake**

Shinigami-sama was sitting in his chair in the Death Room, quietly enjoying a cup of freshly-brewed tea as the bell that sounded the end of break period rang. He was about to take another sip when an unbelievably loud and incredibly long string of obscenities tore through the air, rattling the windows, shaking the crosses and caltrops, dispersing the clouds, and even causing the coffee table to shudder visibly.

The Grim Reaper almost dropped his teacup in shock, but managed to steady his hand and tighten his grip enough to prevent that disaster from happening.

After several seconds, the profanity died out, leaving the Death Room still and quiet once again. Shinigami-sama blinked.

"Who...or what...was that?" he asked himself. "And, more importantly...did they just say what I think they said?"


End file.
